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THE    BEATEN    PATH 


f^>^ 


THE    BEATEN    PATH 


A  NOVEL 


BY 

RICHARD    LAWRENCE    MAKIN 


Ne&j  gorft 
THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON :  MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,  LTD. 
1903 

All  rigkU  rturvid 


Copyright,  1903, 
By  the  macmillan  company. 


Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  published  August,  1903. 


Norwood  Press 
S.  Cushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S. A. 


"  This  that  they  call  '  Organizing  of  Labor,'  is,  if 
well  understood,  the  Problem  of  the  whole  Future, 
for  all  who  will  in  future  pretend  to  govern  men.'^ 

—Thomas  Carlyle,  «  Past  and  Present,"  Bk.  IV,  Chap.  III. 


2136955 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  »AGB 

I.  A  Candidate          ........  i 

II.  Margaret  Leverson 15 

III.  A  Movable  Feast 22 

IV.  The  Valley  of  the  Shadow 35 

V.  Lazarus  and  Dives 45 

VI.  The  Leverson  Chess-board 56 

VII.  The  Fitness  of  Things  .        ......  65 

VIII.  Another  Feast 74 

IX.  A  Mere  Matter  of  Business 85 

X.  Mobray  Doniphan's  Carriage  is  kept  Waiting         .         .  98 

XI.  One-sided  Confidence 112 

XII.  An  Unfortunate  Success 122 

XIII.  The  Burney  House 132 

XIV.  Piety  and  Wit     '.".'.•..        .        .        .149 
XV.  Dangerous  Ground 159 

in 

XVI.  Counter-currents 167 

XVII.  Brockton  Junction 175 

XVIII.  Leverson  hears  a  Great  Deal  too  much  about   Owen 

Thallon 192 

XIX,  The  Colonel  faces  an  Unexpected  Development     .        .  204 

XX.  A  False  Step 221 

XXI.  Reggie  makes  a  Clean  Breast  of  It         .        .        .        .  236 

XXII.  "But  kept  all  these  Things  and  pondered  them  in  her 

Heart" 249 

XXIII.  Mobray  Doniphan  finds  himself  out  of  his  Element        .  267 

vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTKR  PAGE 

XXIV.    Whitelaw  searches  a  Title 282 

XXV.     A  Man  and  a  Priest 291 

XXVI.     Whitelaw  is  put  in  his  Proper  Place  and  makes 

the  Most  of  It 308 

XXVII.     The  Colonel  and  Whitelaw  chant  the  Requiem  of  a 

Respectable  Corporation 326 

XXVIII.     In  which  a  Free-thinker  and  an  Evangelist  stretch 
the  Colonel's   Elastic  Temper  to  the  Breaking 

Point 343 

XXIX.     Smiles  and  Tears 362 

XXX*    Great  Things- and  Small 380 

XXXI.     Of  Controlling  Interests,  Financial  and  Otherwise    .  398 

XXXIL    The  Barriers  break  Down 410 

XXXIII.  Unspoken         ........  425 

XXXIV.  At  Odds 446 

XXXV.     Margaret  sends  a  Message 465 

XXXVI.    The  Leverson  Dinner  is  kept  Waiting      .        .        .  480 

XXXVII.     Leverson's  Limit 494 

XXXVIII.     Light  in  Darkness 512 

Epilogue c^i 


THE    BEATEN    PATH 


THE   BEATEN    PATH 


CHAPTER  I 

A   CANDIDATE 

An  accident  had  happened  at  the  Leverson  Car  Works. 
Being  the  noon  hour,  the  crowd  about  the  entrance  was 
representative  of  every  shop  in  Brockton  as  Dr.  Lindley,  in 
answer  to  the  hurry  call  sent  out  fifteen  minutes  before, 
elbowed  his  way  through  the  thickly  packed  mass  of  human 
beings  drawn  together  by  sympathy  or  curiosity. 

"  It's  Rough  Raggles's  Uttle  girl,"  some  one  called  from 
the  front  rank  for  the  information  of  those  behind,  "and 
kilt  for  sure !  " 

"God  help  the  mother !  She  doesn't  know  yet,"  a  woman 
said,Jialf  to  herself,  as  she  turned  away. 

"  What  did  they  send  fer  the  Doctor  fer,  if  the  child's 
gone,'  Raggles  has  no  too  much  money  to  spend  on  doc- 
tors," remarked  a  second  woman. 

"Why,  to  hold  an  inquest,  you  goon,"  came  from  a 
third,  with  a  touch  of  superior  wisdom.  "  Even  one  of  the 
Raggles  kids  will  have  to  have  that  much  done  fer  it.  But 
you  needn't  worry.  It'll  be  at  ther  cost  of  the  county,  so 
Raggles  '11  be  no  worse  off.  There's  enough  kids  left, 
I  reckon." 

The  woman  who  spoke  last  wore  no  unkindly  face ;  she 
was  simply  taking  a  glance  at  the  great  balance  sheet  of 


2  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

life  and  death  as  it  appeared  from  her  point  of  view.  She 
had  buried  a  good  many  children  herself  and  had  survived 
it.  On  the  whole,  there  were  many  things  worse  than 
death,  and  she  shrewdly  suspected  the  first  speaker  of  a 
leaning  toward  the  sentimental  not  to  be  encouraged. 

Meanwhile  the  Doctor  had  pushed  his  way  into  the  freer 
space  inside  the  shop,  where,  between  the  great  entrance 
door,  fringed  with  its  rows  of  curious  faces,  and  the  pon- 
derous machinery,  now  no  longer  in  motion,  he  came  upon 
a  smaller  group  bending  over  a  mere  atom  of  humanity 
lying  upon  a  pile  of  rough  coats  spread  out  on  the  earthen 
floor. 

The  child's  head  rested  upon  the  arm  of  one  of  the 
workmen,  who  did  not  turn  nor  look  up  as  the  rest  moved 
aside  to  let  the  Doctor  pass,  but  continued  in  his  kneeling 
position,  his  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  the  face  of  the  dead 
child. 

"  Electric  shock !     How  did  it  happen  ? " 

The  Doctor  asked  the  question  of  the  crowd  collectively, 
though  he  lost  no  time  in  waiting  for  an  answer,  lifting  the 
limp  little  wrist  in  his  left  hand,  and  passing  his  right,  with 
a  quick  professional  touch,  over  the  face  and  shoulders, 
keeping  it  for  an  instant  over  the  heart. 

"  It  war  ther  big  dynamo,  the  one  we  calls  ther  '  Man- 
killer,*  Dr.  Lindley,"  one  of  the  workmen  volunteered. 
"  The  child  brought  Haggles  his  dinner  just  before  noon, 
and  on  her  way  back  she  cut  through  the  dynamo  room. 
She'd  picked  up  a  bit  of  a  scrap  of  iron  to  play  wid,  and  in 
some  way  she  must'er  touched  the  armature.  It  had  its 
grip  on  'er  before  any  of  us  could  snatch  'er  away.  She's 
er  goner,  sure,  poor  little  kid ! " 

"  The  same  way  Fielding  was  killed  last  fall,"  the  Doctor 
muttered,  half  to  himself.  "It's  the  Leverson  way  of 
running  things;"  and  then  he  added  aloud,  "Where's 
Raggles  ? " 


A  CANDIDATE  3 

"  He's  been  took  home  all  broke  up,"  the  same  man 
answered  again.  "  He  war  'most  afraid  to  go  home  ter  see 
his  wife,  but  Meyer,  the  preacher"  (pointing  to  the  man 
supporting  the  child's  head),  "  said  he'd  f  oiler  him  later  wid 
ther  body,  soon  as  ther  curriner  seen  it.  I  reckon  they'd 
take  it  kindly.  Doctor,  if  you'd  hold  the  inquest  long  toward 
evenin'  down  to  their  house.  It  'ud  be  a  kind  of  satisfac- 
tion to  'em,  and  a  good  many  of  the  hands  'ud  like  ter  be 
there  out  of  respect  to  Mrs.  Raggles." 

"  I'll  make  it  half-past  seven,"  the  Doctor  said  thought- 
fully. "  I  shall  want  any  of  you  who  saw  the  accident  as 
witnesses,  and  six  of  you  for  a  jury."  And  resuming  his 
usual  crisp,  matter-of-fact  tone,  he  ran  over  several  familiar 
names  of  those  present,  the  fact  that  these  appointments 
were  considered  to  confer  a  certain  degree  of  distinction 
upon  the  recipient  not  escaping  his  acute  perceptions.  He 
had  noticed  the  same  thing  under  similar  circumstances 
before. 

This  last  duty  had  brought  the  Doctor  to  his  feet  again. 
The  workman  preacher,  Meyer,  had  also  risen,  bearing  the 
child's  body  in  his  arms  with  a  delicacy  of  touch  one  would 
not  have  looked  for  in  a  man  of  his  class.  Much  thrown 
as  the  Doctor  was  with  that  class,  in  his  capacity  of  general 
practitioner,  Meyer  was  more  or  less  known  to  him  by 
reputation,  but  until  now  he  had  never  found  himself 
at  such  close  quarters  with  him.  It  was  with  a  certain 
growing  interest  that  Lindley  observed  the  man  as  he 
stood  there  without  speaking,  as  if  waiting  the  coroner's 
permission  to  depart. 

The  tall,  spare  figure,  clad  in  its  workman's  loose-fitting 
clothes,  might  not  have  attracted  attention  under  other 
circumstances,  but  now  the  Doctor  noted  that  the  man  held 
himself  more  erect  than  most  of  his  kind,  and  that  the 
carriage  of  the  head  upon  the  long,  thin  neck  had  a  certain 
dignity  about  it,  almost  stately,  the  Doctor  thought. 


4  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

The  face  was  framed  in  great  masses  of  dark,  slightly 
wavy  hair,  worn  long,  while  below  a  scantier  beard  failed 
to  hide  a  sensitive  mouth,  which  might  have  seemed  almost 
womanish  had  it  not  been  for  the  deep,  strong  lines  just 
below  it ;  —  lines  the  purport  of  which,  to  Lindley's  experi- 
enced eyes,  there  was  no  questioning,  lines  of  suffering 
borne  patiently.  Yet  he  was  young,  certainly  short  of 
thirty. 

His  lips  were  moving  slightly,  the  large,  dark  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  the  light  burden  he  carried  in  his  arms  with 
this  same  rapt  intensity  of  gaze  as  if  they  were  piercing 
into  unfathomable  depths,  —  eyes  characteristic  of  the 
man  and  the  type,  of  the  religious  enthusiast  and  devotee. 

"  I  know  of  your  work  among  these  people,"  Lindley 
said,  addressing  Meyer  directly  for  the  first  time.  "  I'm 
glad  you've  consented  to  go  to  them  in  their  trouble.  You 
can  help  them  if  any  one  can." 

Meyer's  face  flushed  with  pleasure  at  the  words,  yet  the 
smile  which  flitted  across  it  died  out  again  as  he  answered 
simply:  — 

"  I  know  I  can  bring  them  comfort  if  they  will  but  take 
it,  —  so  many  will  not." 

The  words  puzzled  Lindley,  but  setting  them  down 
rather  to  the  peculiar  phraseology  of  a  class  than  being 
fraught  with  any  special  meaning,  and  being,  as  usual, 
pressed  for  time,  he  dismissed  them  without  much  ponder- 
ing, and  hurried  off  to  the  main  office  of  the  mill  fronting 
on  the  street,  outside  of  which  he  had  left  his  horse  and 
buggy.  He  had  barely  reached  the  door,  however,  when 
a  light  touch  upon  his  sleeve  made  him  turn  sharply  to 
find  himself  facing  a  young  fellow  of  perhaps  five  and 
twenty,  whom  a  moment  before  he  had  noticed  standing 
just  outside  the  crowd,  an  interested  spectator  of  what  had 
been  passing. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  interrupting  you  in  this  sad  business," 


A  CANDIDATE  5 

the  stranger  began  with  some  hesitation,  "but  can  you  tell 
me  if  there's  any  use  my  waiting  here  to  see  Mr.  Leverson  ? 
I  can't  find  any  one  in  the  office,  and  about  all  I  can  elicit 
from  the  foreman  is  that  the  proprietor  of  the  establish- 
ment is  not  here  now." 

"They're  all  more  or  less  rattled  over  this  business," 
the  Doctor  said  good-naturedly,  "but  I  happen  to  know 
from  experience  that  the  Leverson  Works  is  about  the 
last  place  to  find  Ashton  Leverson.  If  it's  any  business 
connected  with  the  Works,  you'd  better  see  Mr.  Dobson, 
the  Manager." 

"  No,  it  has  no  connection  of  that  kind,"  the  other 
answered  in  the  hurried  tone  of  a  man  conscious  that 
he  is  taking  up  valuable  time,  "and  yet  this  is  the  ad- 
dress given  in  an  advertisement  in  answer  to  which 
I've  come  some  distance,  at  —  at  a  good  deal  of  incon- 
venience." 

As  he  spoke,  the  answer  to  the  advertisement  drew 
from  its  vest  pocket  a  crumpled  bit  of  newspaper  and 
handed  it  to  the  Doctor  as  if  it  were  a  voucher  for  its 
respectability.  Lindley  ran  his  eye  over  it,  taking  in  at 
the  same  time  the  sufficiently  patent  facts  that  the  stranger 
was  very  plainly  though  neatly  dressed,  and  that  he  looked 
tired  —  dog  tired. 

"  Humph !  Advertises  for  a  private  secretary  and  gives 
this  address!  Odd,  and  therefore  like  Leverson,"  the 
Doctor  muttered.  "  Here,  Dobson !  "  addressing  a  tall, 
spare  man  with  an  anxious  face,  who  just  then  hurried 
past  in  the  direction  of  the  office.  "  What's  the  meaning 
of  this }  Leverson's  advertised  for  a  secretary  and  gives 
this  address." 

"I'd  like  to  find  out  who  sees  the  applicants,"  the 
stranger  put  in  politely. 

"  I  do,  more's  the  pity,"  Dobson  growled,  eying  the  new 
arrival  with  much  distrust,  though  addressing  the  Doctor. 


6  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  They've  been  turning  in  here  all  yesterday  and  all  this 
morning,  and  he  hasn't  so  much  as  left  me  a  word  of 
instructions.  I  sent  the  first  batch  up  to  the  house,  as 
I  couldn't  tell  what  in  thunder  they  were  after,  and  he 
sent  back  word  I  wasn't  to  do  that  again,  and  I  won't. 
I  just  turn  'em  loose!  So,  you  see,  I'm  through  with 
you ! "  he  added,  turning  contemptuously  upon  the  appli- 
cant. 

"Very  likely,"  the  stranger  remarked  quietly,  "but  I'm 
not  quite  through  with  you.  I  want  to  know  in  plain 
English  whether  or  not  the  situation's  taken.  If  you 
don't  happen  to  know,  you'd  better  say  so." 

"  And  you'd  better  get  out,  young  man,  and  leave  me  in 
peace !  "  Dobson  snapped  angrily.  "  I  can't  be  bothered 
with  out-at-elbows  candidates  for  the  place  of  Leverson's 
puppy-dog." 

"  Really ! "  the  candidate  retorted  with  amiable  com- 
posure, though  he  had  thrown  back  his  head  and  fixed  a 
pair  of  cold  gray  eyes  on  the  irate  Dobson ;  "  I  beg  par- 
don, I  thought  I  was  speaking  to  his  puppy-dog." 

For  an  instant  there  was  an  ugly  look  in  the  Manager's 
eyes,  but  the  stranger  was  an  easy  two  inches  over  six  feet, 
and  the  Doctor  made  haste  to  relieve  the  situation. 

"  Oh,  come !  we  haven't  time  to  waste  over  definitions ! " 
he  said  good-hum oredly.  "  I  know  you're  rattled  over  this 
business,  Dobson,  but  you  might  find  time  to  answer  a 
civil  question." 

"  Answer !  Haven't  I  answered  ? "  the  Manager  snorted 
scornfully.  "  As  he's  so  anxious  to  know  it,  I  believe  one 
of  the  lot  that  was  here  this  morning  went  back  and  got 
the  place,  so  there's  no  use  any  more  following."  And 
with  another  snort  Dobson  disappeared  into  the  shop. 

As  he  handed  back  the  scrap  of  paper  to  the  dismissed 
candidate,  Lindley  noticed  that  the  slight  flush  which  had 
mounted  to  his  forehead  at  Dobson's  words   had   given 


A  CANDIDATE  J 

place  to  a  deadly  pallor,  and  that,  after  the  manager's 
exit,  he  leaned,  as  if  for  support,  against  the  jamb  of  the 
office  door. 

"  Oh,  come,  I  wouldn't  mind  him.  As  I  said,  he's  rat- 
tled over  this  business,"  the  Doctor  remarked  soothingly. 
"You've  been  travelling  a  goodish  bit,  I  should  say,"  he 
added  interrogatively,  with  a  more  careful  scanning  of  the 
stranger's  face  and  figure.     "  In  from  Lancaster,  mebby } " 

"  No,  I  came  down  the  river  from  Harrisburg  yesterday 
on  one  of  the  timber  rafts.  We  got  into  a  good  many 
jams  so  that  we  were  late  in  last  night,  and  I  put  up  with 
some  of  the  lumbermen  at  one  of  their  inns  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  town.  I  was  a  trifle  fagged  and  had  the  bad 
judgment  to  oversleep  myself  this  morning;  which  may 
result,  it  seems,  in  my  having  to  walk  back  again,  as  the 
current  don't  run  both  ways  on  the  Susquehanna." 

The  incongruity  of  a  young  fellow  with  the  address  and 
bearing  of  a  gentleman,  who  was  an  applicant  for  a  posi- 
tion of  trust,  travelling,  from  seeming  motives  of  economy, 
on  timber  rafts  and  putting  up  at  lumbermen's  inns,  did 
not  decrease  the  Doctor's  interest  in  the  new  arrival,  but 
he  bided  his  time. 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  give  the  thing  up  as  hopeless,"  he 
began  cheerily.  "  It  beats  me  what  in  the  world  Lever- 
son  can  want  a  secretary  for,  but  as  he  does,  I  wouldn't 
give  it  up  without  a  try.  It  by  no  means  follows  that  he 
will  get  on  with  this  new  one,  and  before  the  afternoon 
the  place  may  be  vacant  again.  From  what  I  know  of 
him  I  should  say  making  vacancies  was  Leverson's  strong 
point." 

"  And  how  far  may  it  be  to  Mr.  Leverson's  house }  " 

"  It's  pretty  well  on  the  other  side  of  the  town  from 
here.  You  can  go  there  by  electric  cars  from  the  Brock- 
ton post-office,  and  that's  a  mile.  You'd  better  take  a  seat 
in  my  buggy ;  I  can  get  you  that  far." 


8  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"You're  very  good,"  the  stranger  answered,  his  face 
flushing  again.     "  Your  offer  sounds  tempting." 

"Jump  in,  then,"  Lindley  said,  proceeding,  without 
further  words,  to  conduct  the  candidate  through  the  office 
and  across  the  narrow  sidewalk  which  bordered  the  Works 
on  this  side,  where,  shouldering  their  way  through  the  still 
gaping  crowd,  they  mounted  into  the  Doctor's  comfortable 
vehicle. 

Neither  spoke  for  the  next  few  minutes,  the  Doctor's 
attention  being  entirely  absorbed  in  handhng  his  spirited 
mare,  while  his  companion  threw  himself  wearily  back  on 
the  deep  seat  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  luxury. 

It  was  only  the  profile  of  the  face  that  the  Doctor 
caught  when  later,  the  mare  having  dropped  into  an 
easier  pace,  he  turned  once  more  toward  his  companion, 
but  he  saw  enough  to  answer  one  or  two  questions  that 
had  just  entered  his  head  respecting  this  latest  acquisition 
of  Brockton.  Despite  the  weary  look  in  his  eyes  and  his 
ready  acceptance  of  a  helping  hand,  there  was  an  odd 
suggestion  of  self-confidence  about  him,  as  perceptible  in 
the  closely  knit,  muscular  figure,  as  in  the  firmly  set  lines 
of  a  square  jaw,  the  slightly  compressed  lips,  or  the  broad, 
low  forehead. 

"  Humph,  — enough  brain,  bone,  and  tissue  to  make  him 
more  than  passable,"  was  the  Doctor's  inward  comment. 
"  Yet  he's  drawn  a  bit  heavily  on  the  latter.  I'll  bet  a  hat 
he's  not  tasted  breakfast,  and  here  we  are  at  dinner  time." 
This  conviction  was  so  strong  with  the  Doctor,  and  he  was 
so  afraid  of  involuntarily  giving  it  expression,  that  he 
plunged  into  other  matters  rather  abruptly. 

"Were  you  in  business  in  Harrisburg  ? "  he  began  inno- 
cently, flicking  a  fly  off  the  mare's  polished  flank,  and 
then  apologizing  for  the  liberty  with  a  "  Whoa,  Nell ! 
Gently,  girl,  gently !  " 

"  I  spent  a  couple  of  years  with  the  law  firm  of  Hartley 


A  CANDIDATE  9 

and  Bald  as  clerk,"  the  other  said  in  the  tone  of  a  man 
anxious  to  make  a  good  impression.  "  I've  a  letter  from 
them  here  which  may  prove  of  use  to  me,  —  and  after  that 
I  took  a  place  on  the  Sentinel,  because  I  couldn't  well 
afford  to  go  on  with  the  law,  and  thought  journalism 
might  give  me  a  chance.  I  was  there  nearly  a  year  when 
the  paper  changed  hands  and  I  was  left  out  in  the  cold ; 
so  after  knocking  around  for  a  month  or  two,  my  eye 
caught  Mr.  Leverson's  advertisement,  and  I  started  out 
to  see  if  I  couldn't  better  myself  here.  It  struck  me  there 
might  be  a  chance  to  start  something  on  my  own  account 
in  the  newspaper  line  in  a  smaller  town,  and  this  place 
with  Mr.  Leverson  would  give  me  bread  and  butter  while 
I  was  looking  about." 

"  Yes,  I  see  !  Well,  if  you  get  the  place,  your  bread's  all 
right,  though  I'm  not  so  sure  about  the  butter,  for  Lever- 
son's  not  given  to  high  wages,"  the  Doctor  laughed,  run- 
ning his  eye  with  evident  satisfaction  over  the  contents 
of  the  large  blue  envelope  his  companion  handed  him. 
"That's  all  right,"  he  said  as  he  returned  it.  "I  know 
Bald  slightly  myself.  I  see  your  name's  Thallon  —  Owen 
Thallon.  Humph  !  It's  a  name  with  a  sort  of  prosperous 
ring  to  it,  so  you  ought  to  get  on.  All  you  want,  I  reckon, 
.  is  to  get  started  right,  and  that's  what  we've  got  to  see  to 
'now.  I'm  sorry  you've  struck  a  poor  time  to  see  Ashton 
Leverson  on  business." 

"  If  you  mean  it's  his  dinner  hour,  I  needn't  hurry  up 
there,  as  far  as  that  goes." 

"  Oh,  Lord,  no !  It's  not  that.  Leverson's  a  swell  and 
dines  late.  That's  one  innovation  since  his  brother's  time, 
—  his  elder  brother,  John  Leverson." 

"Yes.-'  I've  heard  the  name,"  the  younger  man  said, 
with  the  polite  encouragement  due  to  one  who  was  giving 
him  a  mile  lift  behind  a  good  horse. 

"  There  was  a  good  fifteen  years'  difference  between  the 


10  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

two,  and  some  other  differences  which  counted  for  more," 
the  Doctor  ran  on,  with  unconcealed  delight  in  his  dis- 
covery of  an  absolutely  fresh  listener  who  came  so  highly 
recommended.  "  John  Leverson  did  well  by  his  business, 
and  as  a  natural  consequence  his  business  did  well  by  him. 
He'd  built  these  works  by  the  time  he  was  thirty,  and  at 
forty  he  was  a  rich  man.  Never  for  one  little  minute  what 
you'd  call  stuck  up,  you  know,  but  in  his  way  as  proud  as 
Lucifer,  as  he  had  a  good  right  to  be." 

Thallon  murmured  his  appreciation  of  this  admirable 
quality. 

"Had  a  trick  of  carrying  his  head  thrown  well  back, " 
the  Doctor  went  on  in  pleased  reminiscence ;  "  the  way 
you  held  yours  just  now  when  Dobson  was  trying  to  jump 
on  you.  Oddly  enough  you  reminded  me  of  him  then 
for  half  a  minute.  Hello,  you're  not  sick,  are  you  ? " 
This  with  a  touch  of  professional  concern  to  his  com- 
panion, who  had  sunk  back  into  his  seat,  the  gray  look  on 
his  face  again. 

"  No,  not  ill,  only  a  trifle  fagged.  I  shall  be  all  right 
after  a  bit,"  the  latter  said  hastily,  passing  his  hand  across 
his  forehead  as  if  he  brushed  aside  a  distasteful  subject. 
"From  what  you  say"  —  he  spoke  now  in  a  lighter  vein, 
not  devoid  of  effort  —  "I  draw  the  conclusion  that  you 
don't  Hke  the  younger  Leverson.  As  for  the  brother,  it's 
easy  to  see  that  he  had  all  the  virtues  which  go  to  make 
up  that  paragon  of  goodness,  *  the  self-made  man  '  —  the 
kind  which  invariably  returns  to  his  native  farm  to  lift  the 
mortgage,  endows  the  village  with  a  library  in  memory  of 
his  mother,  or  the  meeting-house  with  a  chime  of  bells, 
marries  his  early  love,  the  village  beauty,  and  lives  happily 
ever  after.     No  breath  of  scandal  about  him,  of  course." 

"All  wrong,"  the  Doctor  answered,  laughing.  "John 
Leverson  was  anything  but  a  saint.  I  reckon  he  had  his 
fling  like  other  boys  in  his  younger  days,  though  that  was, 


A   CANDIDATE  II 

of  course,  a  trifle  before  my  time ;  but  he  did  fill  the  place 
that  belonged  to  him,  and  he  filled  it  well,  which  is  more 
than  can  be  said  for  his  successor." 

"  Anything  but  a  saint,"  Thallon  repeated  slowly,  as  if 
he  enjoyed  the  sound  of  the  words.  "  Yes,  I've  heard  the 
name  before.     Pray  go  on." 

"  Oh,  there  isn't  much  more  to  tell ;  he  lived  and  died  a 
plain  Pennsylvania  manufacturer,  but  he  made  the  mistake 
of  trying  to  educate  his  brother  into  something  better. 
Knowing  him  as  I  did,  I  was  never  able  to  understand 
that  in  him.  I  suppose  there  must  have  been  a  streak  of 
blamed  foolishness  back  somewhere  in  the  Leverson  stock, 
and  that  was  the  way  it  took  to  come  out  in  him.  For 
himself,  he  was  satisfied  to  own  and  run  half  of  Brockton, 
as  Brockton  was  in  those  days,  when  the  lower  Susque- 
hanna Valley  was  at  its  best.  He  did  it  too,  before  he 
died,  but  he  certainly  encouraged  Ashton  to  look  out  for 
broader  fields  to  browse  in." 

"  Literature  .•• "  suggested  his  listener,  smiling  wickedly. 

"  The  Lord  only  knows  what  he'd  planned  for  him.  All 
I  know  is  that  he  started  in  wrong.  To  give  Ashton  a 
college  education  was  quite  right,  though  it  ought  to  have 
been  with  some  definite  object,  and  I  suppose  keeping  him 
over  in  Europe  needn't  have  ruined  him,  but  it  hardly 
fitted  him  to  take  up  his  brother's  business.  I've  thought 
sometimes  that  he  never  intended  him  to  take  it  up  at  all, 
but  if  he  had  other  plans,  sudden  death  turned  them  all 
into  thin  air.  Any  one  would  have  said  that  John  Lever- 
son  had  a  good  thirty  years  before  him,  when  at  forty-five 
he  turned  a  sharp  corner  and  went  out  like  a  candle.  That 
was  three  years  ago.  He  died  after  a  week's  illness,  with- 
out so  much  as  a  word,  let  alone  the  stroke  of  a  pen,  and, 
of  course,  everything  fell  to  Ashton.  How  he's  taken  it 
up,  you'll  be  better  able  to  judge  when  you  make  his 
acquaintance.     Even  if  he  were  ready  to  do  the  work,  — 


12  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

which  he  isn't,  —  he  knows  no  more  about  running  a  shop 
than  a  five-year-old  baby.  The  whole  thing's  in  the  hands 
of  middlemen  and  superintendents  and  the  result's  chaos." 

"  I  judged  from  his  advertisement  and  from  things  I've 
heard,  that  he  was  engaged  in  assisting  hungry  editors  to 
fill  their  magazines,"  Thallon  said,  in  the  tone  of  a  man 
who  regarded  that  as  an  excuse  for  anything. 

"  Oh,  my,  yes  !  That  is,  he  thinks  he  is,"  the  Doctor  put 
in  with  great  contempt.  "I  hear  he's  writing  a  book  —  a 
novel,  or  some  such  drivel.  It's  his  latest  fad,  just  as  last 
year  he  went  in  for  yachting,  and  the  year  before  for  horses. 
If  he  knows  as  much  about  his  book  as  he  does  about 
horses,  it  must  be  a  peach.  I  suppose  he  wants  a  secre- 
tary to  look  out  the  long  words  in  a  dictionary,  and  to 
transpose  something  he's  read  so  people  '11  think  it's  his. 
Has  piles  of  Uterary  chaps  up  from  the  city  to  eat  his 
dinners  for  a  week  at  a  time  and  scratch  his  back  until 
they  hear  him  purr.  On  the  whole  a  meaner  lot  I  never 
laid  eyes  on ;  though,  by  the  way,  I  mean  no  reflection  on 
the  profession  in  general.  Journalism's  another  matter; 
something  might  be  done  at  that  by  a  young  fellow  with 
push  and  some  vestige  of  a  conscience.  However,  that's 
all  in  good  time." 

"Yes.  What  I'm  worrying  about  just  now  is  whether 
Mr.  Leverson  can  be  prevailed  upon  to  employ  another 
middleman,"  Thallon  said,  welcoming  the  change  of 
subject. 

"  Who'll  take  the  same  place  at  Elmhurst  that  Dobson 
does  at  the  mill,  some  one  with  unlimited  responsibility 
and  no  authority.  A  sort  of  clerical  dry  nurse  under  con- 
trol of  the  infant,"  Lindley  said  with  a  shrug,  and  then 
gave  his  attention  to  his  mare  again,  as  she  swung  into  an 
open  gateway,  with  "  Whoa,  Nell !  Steady,  girl !  Here  we 
are  at  my  house,  as  the  vixen  knows  well  enough.  You'd 
better  come  in  and  take  pot  luck  with  us." 


A  CANDIDATE  1 3 

For  the  moment  surprise,  perhaps,  predominated  over 
Thallon's  gratitude.  At  any  rate,  it  was  several  seconds 
before  he  expressed  any. 

Had  he  been  a  less  attentive  listener,  he  would  have 
noticed  some  time  before  that  they  had  driven  a  good  deal 
more  than  a  mile  and  had  left  the  manufacturing  and  busi- 
ness sections  of  the  town  well  behind  them.  The  latter  part 
of  their  way  had  been  through  broad  macadamized  streets 
shaded  by  double  rows  of  elms,  the  large,  old-fashioned, 
frame  houses  on  either  side  standing  well  back,  surrounded 
by  trimly  kept  lawns  and  gardens.  It  was  before  one  of 
the  least  pretentious  of  these  houses  that  the  mare  had 
decided  to  stop. 

"  Why,  you're  very  good,"  Thallon  said,  finding  his 
tongue  by  the.  time  the  Doctor,  with  his  usual  briskness,  was 
out  of  the  buggy,  "  but  I  thought  you  were  going  to  set 
me  down  at  the  post-office." 

"  So  I  was,  but  I've  thought  better  of  it.  As  I've  said, 
you  won't  find  Leverson  in  before  the  afternoon,  and 
there's  no  use  your  kicking  your  heels  at  his  house  or 
spending  your  time  at  a  Brockton  restaurant.  Brockton's 
not  particularly  strong  on  restaurants,  as  perhaps  you 
know.  Even  a  dinner  at  the  Lindley's  will  be  apt  to  set 
better,  besides  which  I  haven't  got  through  talking  to 
you." 

As  the  Doctor  had  been  busily  engaged  in  unharnessing 
the  mare  while  he  said  this,  the  acceptance  of  the  invita- 
tion seemed  to  be  taken  for  granted;  nor  did  Thallon 
make  any  further  protest,  his  attention  caught  by  a  group 
of  three  small  children  in  blue  gingham  pinafores,  who, 
with  a  howl  of  welcome,  were  rushing  down  the  walk 
which  led  from  the  house,  the  two  larger  climbing  at  once 
into  the  horseless  buggy,  while  the  smaller  one  made  a 
descent  upon  the  Doctor's  legs. 

"  For  shame,  Ned !     Do  get  down,  Dot ;  you're  worse 


14  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

than  a  couple  of  colts,"  the  Doctor  expostulated.  "  Come, 
run  along,  and  tell  mother  I've  persuaded  this  gentleman 
to  stop  to  dinner.  We'll  be  in  in  half  a  minute,  so  hurry 
along." 

With  the  children  the  Doctor's  voice  had  broken  into  a 
pleasant  ripple  of  merriment,  and  his  clear  eyes  had  a  be- 
coming twinkle  in  them  as  he  put  the  small  army  on  its 
feet  again  and  watched  it  in  full  retreat  up  the  walk, 
the  importance  of  its  mission  weighing  heavily  upon  it. 
But  when  a  few  minutes  later  he  put  up  the  mare  and  re- 
joined his  companion,  he  spoke  in  his  usual  crisp,  business- 
like tone. 

Lindley  had  the  reputation  in  Brockton  of  being  blunt, 
though  that  estimate  of  him  was  not,  perhaps,  the  one 
most  current  amongst  the  halt,  the  lame,  and  the  blind. 
No  one  who  had  seen  him  then,  as  he  breezily  led  the 
way  up  his  own  front  steps,  could  have  discovered  in 
him  a  suggestion  that  any  consideration  for  the  new- 
comer's pocket  had  the  remotest  connection  with  this 
impromptu  invitation. 

The  Lindley's  front  door  opened  into  a  small  square  hall, 
on  the  right  of  which  a  second  door  gave  access  to  a  dimly 
lighted  consulting  room.  Still  talking  rapidly  the  Doctor 
had  just  crossed  its  threshold,  closely  followed  by  his 
guest,  when  the  tall  figure  of  a  young  lady,  dressed  in  some 
sort  of  creamy  white  stuff,  rose  from  one  of  the  cane- 
seated  chairs,  advanced  a  step  toward  them,  and  then,  per- 
ceiving the  second  figure  in  the  doorway,  paused  abruptly. 


CHAPTER   II 

MARGARET    LEVERSON 

"Well,  I  declare,  Mrs.  Leverson,  you  had  the  advantage 
of  me,"  the  Doctor  said,  turning  the  slats  of  one  of  the 
blinds,  which  sent  shafts  of  truant  sunbeams  to  dancing  on 
the  opposite  wall.  "  If  you'll  wait  just  a  minute,  I'll  make 
Mr.  Thallon  comfortable  in  the  parlor  across  the  hall,  and 
then  I'm  all  attention,  for  I  see,  as  usual,  you're  keen  on 
business,  though  I  hope  not  professional  business  this 
time." 

Thallon,  to  do  him  justice,  had  already  gone,  showing 
no  disposition  to  linger  where  he  was  obviously  in  the  way. 
If  in  the  brief  interval  she  had  stood  there  before  him  in 
the  brighter  light,  he  had  absorbed  a  very  clear  impression 
of  her  youth  and  of  her  beauty,  he  had  sufficient  excuse, 
perhaps,  under  the  circumstances,  in  the  mere  mention  of 
hec  name.  And  this  impression,  received  oddly  enough 
from  one  of  whose  existence  he  had  until  then  been  utterly 
ignorant,  came  to  him  in  the  nature  of  a  surprise. 

As  for  her,  she  had  evidently  taken  no  note  of  Thallon's 
presence  at  all,  save  as  a  hindrance  to  the  pursuit  of  her 
present  purpose,  though  she  was,  doubtless,  properly  grate- 
ful to  the  hindrance  for  taking  itself  off  so  promptly. 

"  It's  about  this  awful  accident  at  the  Works,"  she  said 
in  a  hurried,  anxious  tone  as  the  door  closed  behind  him. 

The  Doctor's  face  grew  suddenly  grave.  He  had  been 
fighting  shy  of  the  subject  with  Thallon  for  the  last  half 
hour,  and  here  it  was  again.     He  had  a  resigned,  patient 

IS 


l6  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

look,  not  by  any  means  characteristic  of  him,  as  he  me- 
chanically motioned  her  to  resume  the  seat  she  had  just 
vacated,  and  dropped  into  his  own  swivel  chair,  which 
stood  in  front  of  an  old-fashioned  secretary. 

"  It's  a  bad  business,"  he  began  slowly,  fussing  with  the 
papers  on  his  desk  while  he  collected  himself.  His  fore- 
seeing, as  in  a  sense  he  did,  that  in  this  unexpected  inter- 
view he  would  not  be  at  liberty  to  say  precisely  what  he 
thought  of  certain  things,  made  this  extremely  difficult  for 
him,  for  he  was  in  the  habit  of  playing  what  he  called  a 
straight  game.  He  had  known  Margaret  Leverson  ever 
since,  as  Mrs.  Gilbreed's  second  baby,  he  had  assisted  her 
into  this  world  some  twenty  years  before.  In  any  one  of 
the  first  seventeen  of  them,  he  would  have  said  anything 
he  had  to  say  without  fear  or  favor,  as  his  habit  was,  to 
Margaret  Gilbreed,  but  he  was  painfully  conscious  that  Mar- 
garet Gilbreed  and  Ashton  Leverson's  wife  were  distinctly 
different  persons. 

"  I  knew,  of  course,  as  soon  as  I  heard  of  it,  that  you 
had  been  called  there,"  she  went  on.  "  So  I  came  here 
and  waited.     I  want  you  to  tell  me  everything." 

The  Doctor  smiled  at  the  comprehensiveness  of  this 
feminine  demand,  and  the  smile  made  it  easier  for  him  to 
go  on.  He  told  her  the  story  in  a  few  words,  making  no 
comment.  He  could  see  that  she  shrank  from  it,  even 
though  she  had  forced  it  from  him  —  just  as  he  could  see 
that  she  was  leading  up  to  something  which  she  dreaded 
still  more ;  and  he  knew  her  well  enough  to  know  that  she 
would  force  that  from  him,  too.  She  did  not  keep  him 
long  waiting.  Her  next  words,  with  a  directness  which 
might  have  been  his  own,  brought  the  difficulty  which 
Lindley  had  foreseen  into  the  foreground. 

"  Tell  me,"  she  said,  leaning  forward  in  her  chair  and 
fixing  upon  him  a  look  of  very  searching  inquiry,  "  tell  me, 
has  any  one  been  blamed  }  Can  any  one  be  held  respon- 
sible ?  " 


MARGARET   LEVERSON  1 7 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Leverson,"  the  Doctor  said,  fencing  to 
gain  time,  "  that's  a  matter  for  the  jury  to  decide  at  the 
inquest." 

"  You  don't  understand,"  she  said  quickly,  though  she 
knew  very  well  he  did  ;  "  I  don't  mean  legal  responsibility. 
No  one  could  possibly  blame  Ashton,  could  they  ?  " 

Driven  to  bay,  the  Doctor,  after  an  instant's  hesitation, 
faced  the  thing  squarely.  He  knew  that  Margaret  Lever- 
son  had  just  asked  him  a  question  which  she  would  not 
have  asked  of  any  other  human  being ;  he  was  even  pretty 
sure  that,  but  for  stress  of  weather,  she  would  not  have 
asked  it  of  him.  Nevertheless,  her  having  done  so,  put 
them  a  long  way  back  toward  those  old  days  when  she 
had  been  only  Maggie  Gilbreed  to  him,  and  had  driven 
for  miles  around  Brockton  between  his  knees,  behind  the 
old  sorrel,  —  the  humble  predecessor  of  Nell  the  Peerless. 
That  old  relationship  brought  back  with  it  an  old  respon- 
sibility. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  said  quietly,  "you're  asking  me  for 
my  opinion  of  your  husband." 

The  hot  blood  mounted  to  her  cheek  as  she  drew  back, 
almost  as  if  he  had  struck  her. 

"  Oh,  you  surely  can't  misunderstand  me,"  she  said 
earnestly,  a  perceptible  break  in  her  voice.  "You  can't 
believe  I  meant  anything  disloyal  to  him  in  coming  here  to 
ask  you  this." 

"  I  don't  for  one  moment  believe  you  disloyal,"  he  an- 
swered kindly,  though  he  resisted  the  impulse  to  take  the 
little  gloved  hand  which  lay  hopelessly  limp  upon  the  arm 
of  the  chair,  and  give  it  a  reassuring  pat.  "  You've  been 
a  good  wife  to  Ashton  Leverson,  —  you  wouldn't  be  here 
now  talking  about  him  if  you  weren't.  I  only  thought  it 
right  to  remind  you  that  if  you  go  on  talking  about  him, 
I've  got  to  tell  you  honestly  what  I  think." 

"  I  knew  you  had  never  liked  him,"  she  said,  trying  to 


l8  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

conceal  the  effort  it  cost  her,  "  but  I  knew  you  would  be 
just  —  and  —  you  were  the  only  person  who  would  know. 
But  you  are  quite  right  to  be  honest;  you  do  hold  him 
responsible." 

"  In  a  way,  yes,  —  as  I'd  hold  any  man  responsible  who 
neglects  his  business.  It  would  be  perfectly  absurd  for 
me  to  pretend  to  you  that  Ashton  Leverson  doesn't  neg- 
lect his." 

"  How  can  he  be  anything  else } "  she  said  earnestly, 
laying  a  hand  beseechingly  on  the  Doctor's  sleeve.  "  He 
has  hated  the  business  and  the  Works  ever  since  his  school 
holidays,  which  he  was  forced  to  spend  here.  They've 
been  a  weight  around  his  neck  from  the  day  they  first 
belonged  to  him.  He  hasn't  a  taste,  a  thought,  in  common 
with  the  life.     How  can  he  fill  the  place  .-* " 

It  struck  the  Doctor  that  the  remedy  for  such  a  state  of 
things  was  obvious  enough,  but  it  was  no  part  of  his  pur- 
pose to  use  arguments  which  he  knew  she  could  not  answer. 

"  Come,  come,"  he  said,  resuming  something  of  his 
usual  cheerful  tone.  "  As  the  coroner,  I  can't,  of  course, 
be  caught  discussing  the  case,  but  strictly  between  our- 
selves I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  there's  small  chance 
of  any  one  being  found  responsible,  though,  of  course,  the 
jury's  uncertain  —  a  mill  jury  always  is." 

"  Why .? " 

"  Because  they're  pulled  both  ways,  and  it's  a  toss-up 
which  side  will  pull  the  strongest.  A  mill  jury  is  probably 
the  most  prejudiced,  one  way  or  the  other,  of  any  you 
could  find  inside  the  town  limits  to  pass  on  a  mill  accident. 
And  for  that  very  reason  they're  as  unstable  as  water. 
Strongest  reasons  for  keeping  in  with  their  employers, 
while  on  the  other  hand  they're  passing  on  the  precau- 
tions taken  for  their  own  safety.  Yet  a  mill  jury  we've 
got  to  have  in  deference  to  local  prejudice.  The  men 
themselves  would  resent  anything  else  as  outside  inter- 


MARGARET  LEVERSON  I9 

ference.  If  it  were  wages  instead  of  the  life  of  a  child 
at  stake,  they'd  prove  themselves  sharp  enough,  but  they'll 
not  drive  Leverson  into  enforcing  unpopular  regulations. 
The  men  must  have  their  dinners  brought  them,  and  the 
women  are  mostly  too  overworked  to  do  it.  So,  rule  or  no 
rule,  children  of  that  age  get  the  run  of  the  mill.  The 
trouble  is  nobody  cares  until  it's  too  late." 

"  Nobody  cares }  "  she  repeated  incredulously.  "  Surely 
the  women  —  " 

"  Well,  they  grow  hard  enough  if  there's  nothing  done 
to  make  them  care,"  the  Doctor  said  sadly.  "  Go  into  some 
of  their  homes  and  see  why  they  don't.  I've  been  there, 
and  I  know." 

"  I  used  to  go,  but  of  late  years  there  have  been  reasons. 
I  have  been  so  much  away.  I  wanted  to  speak  to  you 
before  going  there  to-day  —  wanted  especially  to  ask 
whether  you  thought  I  might  offer  to  help  them  —  the 
family,  I  mean." 

"  With  money  ?  no  !  "  Lindley  answered  thoughtfully, 
rising  as  she  had  risen  and  walking  with  her  to  the  door. 
"  Go  down,  if  you  like,  and  show  them  that  you  do  care, 
though  like  as  not  you'll  get  small  thanks  for  your  pains. 
The  South  Sea  Islands  is  not  the  only  place  where  we 
groijv  savages.  By  the  way,  does  Mr.  Leverson  know  of 
'your  going .'' " 

She  colored  slightly  again  at  the  question.  "  No ;  he  has 
been  away  all  day,  and  will  not  be  back  until  this  afternoon. 
He  will  be  very  much  shocked  when  he  hears,"  she  said. 

"  How  about  his  new  secretary }     I  hear  he  has  one." 

"  Oh,  the  last  one  wouldn't  do  at  all ;  Ashton  said  he 
couldn't  even  spell." 

"  What  luck !  "  the  Doctor  ejaculated. 

Margaret  Leverson  naturally  looked  puzzled. 

"Why,  you  see,  I've  got  a  brand  new  prot6g6  who  is 
after  the  place,"   he   explained   somewhat   shamefacedly. 


20  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  suppose  I  ougth  to  be  sorry  for  the  other  poor  devil, 
but  I've  got  interested  in  this  one.  I'm  keeping  him  now 
on  cold  storage  in  the  parlor,  and  as  soon  as  I'd  fed  him 
up  a  bit,  I'd  figured  on  sending  him  to  Elmhurst.  He's 
from  Harrisburg,  has  excellent  references,  and  looks  as  if 
he  could  spell." 

"  Mr.  Leverson  will  be  very  busy  and  anxious  over  this 
trouble,"  she  said  slowly,  "but  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  your 
prot6g6  had  better  go  this  afternoon.  Unfortunately,  I 
know  so  little  about  Mr.  Leverson's  work  that  I  can  give 
you  no  idea  what  the  chances  are."  She  finished  in  a  tone 
of  apology.  "  I  ought  to  be  more  of  a  help  to  him  than  I 
am,  but  somehow  I  don't  fit  in." 

The  girl's  words  said  so  much  more  than  she  meant  them 
to  say,  the  pathos  in  them  was  so  unconscious,  that  for  a 
moment  the  Doctor  leaped  back  again  over  those  past 
years.  He  observed  now  a  subtle  change  in  her  face 
which  had  escaped  him  in  the  feebler  light  of  the  con- 
sulting room.  It  was  not  that  she  looked  ill  exactly, 
though  certainly  paler  than  in  days  gone  by.  Perhaps  it 
was  only  that  the  heavy  masses  of  nearly  black  hair  had 
been  drawn  closer  to  the  face  on  either  side  of  the  low 
forehead,  which  made  her  look  older  and  more  serious. 
She  had  the  very  dark  hair  and  eyes  of  the  Faucons,  with 
a  clear  white  skin,  which  must  have  been  Gilbreed,  though 
it  was  absent  in  the  Colonel  and  not  marked  in  Mildred. 
On  the  whole,  the  Doctor  was  not  especially  pleased  with 
his  study  of  her,  but  all  he  said  was :  — 

"Where's  the  carriage.?  You  haven't  walked  in  from 
Elmhurst ! " 

"  No ;  I  left  it  in  town,  and  walked  from  the  post- 
office.  You're  sure  you  haven't  misunderstood  my  com- 
ing?" 

"Misunderstood?  Why,  it's  the  kindest  thing  you've 
done  this  long  time.     Kind  to  Leverson  as  well  as  to  me. 


MARGARET  LEVERSON  21 

You  needn't  worry  about  your  loyalty ;  you've  been  loyal 
enough." 

She  smiled  with  perfect  happiness  at  the  words,  for  she 
was  only  twenty.  A  moment  later  he  watched  her  down 
the  front  walk  with  the  consciousness  that  he  had,  on  the 
whole,  played  his  cards  pretty  well. 

He  had  wanted  to  call  Leverson  a  "  criminal  idiot,"  but 
he  had  held  himself  in  with  a  firm  hand.  He  now  reflected 
with  some  self-satisfaction  that  if  he  went  on  thus  improv- 
ing in  self-control,  he  might,  in  time,  turn  out  a  hot  second 
to  that  accomplished  diplomat,  Colonel  Mortimer  Gilbreed. 


CHAPTER   III 

A   MOVABLE   FEAST 

In  the  retirement  of  the  Lindley  best  parlor  Owen  Thal- 
lon  had  ample  opportunity  to  collect  his  thoughts  under 
the  soothing  influence  of  its  florid,  large-patterned  Brus- 
sels carpet,  stiffly  starched  Nottingham  curtains,  green 
plush  furniture,  and  china  ornaments.  If  such  an  influence 
failed  for  a  time  of  its  due  effect,  it  must  have  been  because 
the  visitor's  mind  was  still  occupied  with  its  impression  of  a 
young  lady  in  a  sailor  hat,  linen  shirt-waist,  and  white  serge 
skirt,  who  possessed  the  aristocratic  accomplishment  of 
looking  at  one  as  if  one  were  a  piece  of  furniture. 

Not  that  pique  or  sentiment  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
interest  which  Mrs.  Leverson  had  inspired  in  this  humble 
applicant  for  a  place  in  her  husband's  employ.  Oddly 
enough,  his  only  interest  in  her  lay  in  the  fact  that  she 
was  Ashton  Leverson's  wife,  and  so  impersonal  was  it, 
that  it  is  safe  to  say  he  would  have  experienced  the  same 
sensation  had  she  been  any  one  else  occupying  that  en- 
viable relationship.  Although  he  had  known  a  great  deal 
more  about  Ashton  Leverson  than  Dr.  Lindley  had  seen 
fit  to  tell  him,  this  one  thing  he  had  not  known,  and  it  had 
its  bearing,  or  he  thought  it  had,  upon  certain  rapid  cal- 
culations he  had  been  making  in  those  sanguine  moments 
when  he  regarded  the  situation  he  sought  as  safely  within 
his  grasp. 

For  a  man  in  his  position  this  quality  of  cool  confidence 
was  marked  in  Thallon,  none  the  less  so  that  it  seemed  to 


A  MOVABLE  FEAST  23 

alternate  with  moods  of  an  equally  unreasonable  depres- 
sion. If  the  discovery  of  the  unexpected  Mrs.  Leverson 
had  inclined  him  for  a  moment  to  the  latter  state  of  mind, 
he  now  made  a  determined  effort  to  throw  off  her  baleful 
influence,  even  to  the  extent  of  turning  his  attention  to  the 
Lindley  furnishings  as  a  means  of  grace. 

The  only  light  in  the  room  came  from  the  door  which 
had  been  left  open  into  the  hall,  for  all  the  windows  and 
blinds  were  tight  shut.  He  could  hear  the  murmur  of 
voices  which  came  across  from  the  consulting  room,  leav- 
ing him  with  the  impression  that  he  had  been  buried  alive 
in  an  Assyrian  tomb,  and  that  his  chances  of  rescue  and 
dinner  were  getting  momentarily  farther  and  farther  away. 

This,  again,  being  dangerous  ground,  he  resisted  the 
morbid  fancy  by  concentrating  his  mind  on  a  perfunctory 
study  of  two  large  crayon  portraits  which  hung  in  heavy 
gold  frames  on  either  side  of  the  marble  mantelpiece.  The 
first  was  undoubtedly  intended  to  represent  the  Doctor  him- 
self in  his  best  clothes,  outlined  against  a  light  such  as 
never  was  on  sea  or  land.  Its  companion,  to  judge  from 
its  similar  framing,  a  likeness  of  Mrs.  Lindley,  depicted  an 
exceedingly  thin  lady  who  looked  as  if  she  had  been  buried 
with  the  earlier  of  the  Assyrian  kings  and  only  recently 
disinterred.  As  the  deceased  had  apparently  departed 
this  life  at  the  age  of  sixty,  this  portrait  gave  Thallon 
much  food  for  thought.  The  brood  of  small  children  had 
suggested  a  late  marriage,  for  the  Doctor  himself  must  have 
been  in  the  neighborhood  of  fifty,  but  this  work  of  art 
threw  all  reasonable  solution  of  the  difficulty  to  the  wind. 

Thallon  had  just  made  up  his  mind  that  Lindley  must 
keep  some  kind  of  an  infant  school  to  eke  out  an  income 
derived  from  a  precarious  practice,  when  a  door  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  room  opened  and  a  little  lady  of  per- 
haps eight  and  twenty,  arrayed  in  faded  merino,  made 
her   appearance,  only  to  pause   abruptly  at  sight  of   the 


24  •  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

visitor,  with  an  involuntary  exclamation  of  inarticulate 
apology.  Peeping  shyly  from  behind  her  skirts,  the  three 
pinafored  children  were  again  in  evidence. 

"  Goodness  me !  I  cert'nly  am  sorry,"  she  ejaculated, 
gathering  herself  together  by  a  comprehensive  movement 
which  included  the  rapid  passing  of  a  pair  of  shapely 
hands  over  her  back  hair.  "  I'd  no  idea  Theodore  sent 
you  in  here,  where  you  might  take  your  death  of  cold 
coming  in  from  the  heat." 

"  He  was  kind  enough  to  ask  me  to  stay  to  dinner," 
Thallon  said,  apologetic  in  his  turn.  "  He  has  a  caller  in 
the  consulting  room.  If  I'm  the  least  in  the  way,  I  should 
be  quite  as  comfortable  on  the  piazza,"  he  added  with 
perfect  sincerity. 

"  Well,  I  should  hope  we  didn't  treat  company  like  that," 
Mrs.  Lindley  said  heartily,  opening  one  of  the  front  win- 
dows and  closing  the  door  into  the  hall  with  another  com- 
prehensive movement.  "  I  was  only  surprised,  because  he 
usually  puts  dinner  company  into  the  ground-floor  bedroom 
to  wash  up,  and  I'd  clean  forgotten  Mrs.  Leverson's  being 
in  the  office,  which  opens  into  it.  You  see  their  washing 
up  gives  me  time  to  send  Victoria  down  to  Bryce's  store. 
Victoria's  our  hired  girl,"  she  went  on  in  amiable  expla- 
nation. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  haven't  come  at  a  very  convenient  time," 
Thallon  said  politely,  ignoring  this  last  piece  of  information. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  It's  just  as  convenient  as  any  other 
time,"  Mrs.  Lindley  returned  with  naive  unconsciousness 
of  her  own  humor,  while  she  seated  herself  on  the  sofa, 
fending  off  the  children,  who  attempted  to  follow  her  exam- 
ple, by  a  dexterous  sweep  of  her  thin  right  arm,  which 
landed  them  in  a  heap  at  her  feet.  "  You  mustn't  sit  on 
the  parlor  chairs,  you  know,"  she  said,  addressing  them 
with  mild  severity.     "  You're  sticky." 

The  three  children,  who  had  been  casting  furtive  glances 


A  MOVABLE  FEAST  2$ 

at  the  newcomer  from  behind  her  draperies,  now  deprived 
of  this  protection,  and  conscious  of  the  maternal  displeas- 
ure, set  up  a  subdued  whimper. 

"  Oh  come,  I  wouldn't  cry  about  it,"  Mrs.  Lindley  said 
cheerfully.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  but  what  you'd  better  go 
and  play  in  the  dining  room  till  Victoria  comes  back,  and 
then  you  can  have  more  bread  and  jam.  You  may  sit  on 
the  dining-room  chairs,  you  know." 

This  bait  proving  attractive,  the  three  children  toddled 
away  wreathed  in  smiles. 

"  We  have  a  great  deal  of  drop-in  company,"  Mrs.  Lind- 
ley said,  as  they  disappeared  through  the  doorway.  "  If 
it  hadn't  been  you,  it  would  have  been  somebody  else.  The 
Doctor  brings  'em  in  because  the  hotels  are  so  bad.  That's 
what  makes  the  meal  hours  so  uncertain.  I  don't  suppose 
we'll  get  dinner  much  before  three  o'clock  to-day,"  she 
went  on  placidly,  glancing  at  the  red-and-white  china  clock 
which  stood  on  the  mantle. 

Something  beside  Thallon's  heart  sank  within  him,  but  he 
managed  to  say  politely,  "  A  good  many  people  like  dining 
late." 

"  We  have  it  almost  any  time  from  eleven  to  three,"  Mrs. 
Lindley  said  dreamily.  "  Once,  when  the  Doctor  was  away 
all  day,  we  forgot  to  have  it  at  all.  Victoria's  a  hard 
worker,  but  she  has  no  head." 

"  Quite  like  a  picnic,  a  sort  of  movable  feast,"  the 
dropped-in  remarked  gravely. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  as  you'd  call  it  a  feast.  Victoria's 
biscuits  are  so  uncertain,  but  it  is  movable,"  Mrs.  Lindley 
returned  thoughtfully,  as  if  pleased  to  have  that  advan- 
tage brought  to  her  attention,  "  Do  you  like  ham  } "  she 
went  on  after  a  short  pause,  with  one  of  her  startling 
changes  of  subject. 

The  dropped-in  had  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  he  was 
deeply  attached  to  ham. 


26  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad,"  Mrs.  Lindley  said  with  placid  con- 
tent. "Victoria's  gone  to  buy  one  now.  When  young 
Williams  broke  his  leg  and  was  laid  up  here  for  six  weeks, 
we  had  ham  every  day,  —  he  was  so  fond  of  it.  Williams 
is  a  clerk  in  Bryce's  store,  and  he  boards  with  Mr.  Bryce, 
but  he  couldn't  stay  there  while  he  was  sick,  because  Mrs. 
Bryce  has  hysterics.  I  never  had  hysterics  myself;  I 
couldn't  give  the  time  to  it,"  she  added,  as  if  this  omission 
was  something  to  apologize  for. 

Looking  at  her  as  she  sat  there  with  her  smiUng,  almost 
baby  face  framed  in  blond  hair  which  continually  wanted 
to  come  down,  Thallon  was  very  far  from  questioning  the 
truth  of  her  assertion.  Evidently  feeling  that  she  had 
done  the  honors  sufficiently,  she  now  began  questioning 
him  about  himself  and  his  visit  to  Brockton,  to  all  of 
which  he  gave  the  same  straightforward  answers  he  had 
given  to  the  Doctor. 

The  mention  of  the  Leversons  seemed  to  strike  a  respon- 
sive chord  in  Mrs.  Lindley. 

"  They're  awfully  rich,  you  know,"  she  said  with  a  con- 
fidential lowering  of  the  voice  and  an  eagerness  of  manner 
he  had  not  thought  her  capable  of.  "  Mrs.  Leverson  goes 
to  New  York  every  winter,  and  they  say  she  has  beautiful 
things,  though  she  dresses  very  plainly  when  she  is  in 
Brockton.  She's  Colonel  Gilbreed's  eldest  daughter,  and 
there's  another  daughter  and  a  son.     The  son's  an  artist." 

Thallon's  glance  sought  instinctively  the  two  crayon 
portraits  on  the  wall. 

"Oh,  no,  he  didn't  do  those,"  she  said,  perceiving  his 
drift  with  a  quickness  for  which  he  had  not  given  her 
credit.     "  I  don't  think  he  could  do  anything  like  that." 

"Blessed  limitation!"  was  Thallon's  inward  comment. 

"He  only  does  landscapes  with  little  figures  in  them, 
though  you  can  hardly  tell  what  they're  meant  for  if  you 
don't  look  at  them  from  across  the  room,"  Mrs.  Lindley 


A  MOVABLE  FEAST  27 

went  on,  by  this  time  miles  away  from  Victoria,  ham,  and 
the  dinner.  "  I  don't  believe  he  sells  many  of  his  pictures, 
which  is  a  pity,  because  there  isn't  any  Gilbreed  money,  — 
that  is,  there  didn't  use  to  be,  though  they  say  the  Colonel's 
done  more  than  well  in  politics  of  late  years.  That's  the 
reason  the  Gilbreeds  moved  to  Harrisburg  three  years  ago, 
after  Mrs.  Gilbreed  died,  so  as  to  make  it  handy  for  the 
Colonel  to  run  the  Legislature.  Not  that  they  ain't  over 
here  a  good  part  of  the  time.  Mr.  Reginald's  got  a  studio 
in  the  old  Burney  house  that's  to  let,  and  Miss  Gilbreed's 
at  the  Leverson's  most  every  summer,  and  the  Colonel's 
got  an  office  in  Briscom's  Block,  though  I  reckon  he 
spends  most  of  his  time  in  Brockton  at  the  Everett  House 
talking  politics.  He's  spoken  of  for  the  Senate,  as,  of 
course,  you  know,  if  you're  from  Harrisburg." 

Thallon  did  know,  but  the  subject  failed  to  interest  him. 
What  had  his  attention  just  at  this  moment  was  the  sound 
of  voices  in  the  hall,  the  closing  of  the  front  door,  and  a 
light  step  on  the  gravel  of  the  front  walk.  He  was  glanc- 
ing through  the  Nottingham  curtains  from  where  he  sat  at 
Margaret  Leverson's  retreating  figure,  when  he  was  re- 
called to  Hfe  by  the  Doctor's  bustling  entrance. 

"  I'm  awful  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting,"  he  said, 
kissing  his  wife.  "  But  Mrs.  Leverson's  not  a  person  to 
hurry,  because  she  usually  makes  good  use  of  her  time. 
She  was  full  of  this  horrible  accident  case." 

"  What  accident.^ "  Mrs.  Lindley  queried,  much  interested. 

The  Doctor  gave  Thallon  one  of  his  quick  glances. 

"Mrs.  Lindley's  just  come  in;  she's  given  me  no  chance 
to  tell  her,"  he  said  coolly,  though  he  had  colored  slightly 
under  the  Doctor's  look.  What  he  said  was,  in  a  sense, 
perfectly  true.  To  mention  that  he  had  forgotten  all 
about  the  thing  did  not  strike  him  as  at  all  necessary. 

The  Doctor,  already  busy  answering  his  wife's  questions, 
seemed  quite  satisfied. 


28  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

In  the  midst  of  it  the  rattle  of  plates  in  the  dining  room 
announced  the  return  of  Victoria,  whereupon  Mrs.  Lindley 
made  a  rapid  exit,  while  the  Doctor  pounced  upon  his 
visitor  and  carried  him  off  toward  the  inevitable  "  ground- 
floor  bedroom,"  as  if  he  were  about  to  disinfect  him. 

"  If  you  want  to  wash  up  a  bit,  you'll  find  a  lot  of  clean 
towels  in  that  washstand  drawer,  —  that  is,  you  ought  to, 
if  Victoria  hasn't  forgotten  to  put  them  there.  Let's  see ; 
let's  see.  Yes,  they're  all  right.  Make  the  best  time  you 
can,  for  Mrs.  Lindley's  signalling  me  through  the  dining- 
room  door  that  dinner's  ready." 

Thallon  made  such  very  good  time,  that  five  minutes 
later  he  found  himself  seated  at  a  very  long  table  in  a  very 
small  room,  so  small  that  the  Doctor,  at  one  end  of  the 
cloth,  had  his  back  against  a  large,  mahogany  sideboard, 
while  Mrs.  Lindley,  at  the  other,  had  almost  disappeared 
into  a  glass  extension  built  out  from  the  dining  room  on 
that  side. 

At  Mrs.  Lindley's  end,  Ned,  Dot,  and  the  baby  were 
already  holding  high  carnival,  their  shyness  at  the  pres- 
ence of  strangers  by  this  time  largely  worn  off  under  the 
broadening  influence  of  jam.  Naturally,  under  these  con- 
ditions, the  baby  was  the  noisiest.  He  was  one  of  those 
florid,  soft-looking  babies  who  suggest  soft-boiled  eggs  as 
the  principal  ingredient  in  their  composition. 

Opposite  Thallon,  under  the  Doctor's  governing  eye,  two 
small  girls  and  a  larger  boy,  evidently  just  in  from  school, 
completed  the  party.  Between  these  two  densely  popu- 
lated ends  of  the  table  stretched  an  uninhabited  middle 
zone,  producing  nothing  but  a  large  plated  castor  and 
cruets,  a  plate  of  soda  crackers,  and  a  dish  of  pickles. 

"  We  keep  it  this  way  because  we  have  so  much  drop-in 
company,"  Mrs.  Lindley  smilingly  explained,  observing 
Thallon  gazing  at  her  across  this  lonely  waste. 

"  We  keeps  it  this-a-way  'cause  we  has  such  piles  and 


A   MOVABLE  FEAST  29 

piles  o'  comp'ny,"  echoed  Ned,  trying  to  get  at  the 
pickles. 

"  We  keep  it  this  way  because  it  saves  putting  in  leaves," 
one  of  the  larger  girls  corrected  severely,  removing  the 
pickles  out  of  his  reach. 

"Anita,  you  mustn't  talk  so  much,"  the  head  of  the 
house  remarked  in  parenthesis.  "  It's  only  a  little  awk- 
ward, dear,"  he  went  on  pleasantly,  addressing  Mrs.  Lind- 
ley,  as  he  helped  her  to  some  of  the  newly  acquired  ham, 
"  because  it  prevents  Victoria  getting  around  to  this  side 
of  the  table." 

"  She  reaches  across  beautifully,  though,"  his  wife  put 
in  contentedly,  "  and  it's  good  for  the  muscles  of  her  chest. 
You  said  yourself  she  ought  to  take  calisthenic  exercise 
on  account  of  her  weak  lungs,  only  she  hasn't  got  the 
time." 

The  idea  that  Victoria  had  weak  lungs  and  no  time 
seemed  a  source  of  wonder  and  delight  to  the  three 
younger  Lindleys.  They  commented  on  it  in  audible 
asides  —  showed  a  disposition  to  institute  anti-mortem 
examinations  whenever  that  devoted  domestic  made  one 
of  her  descents  from  the  kitchen  for  the  purpose  of  shunt- 
ing plates  or  bringing  in  hot  bread,  and  attempted  argu- 
mejit  when  she  exhibited  a  natural  and  perfectly  proper 
resentment  against  such  liberties.  Thallon,  who  had  no 
fondness  for  children  in  the  bread-and-jam  stage  of  devel- 
opment, was,  therefore,  devoutly  thankful  when,  gorged 
with  their  favorite  food  and  wickedly  hilarious,  they  were 
all  sent  away  from  the  table  in  disgrace,  going  out  on  a 
triumphant  chorus. 

In  the  reign  of  peace  which  followed,  and  under  the 
strengthening  influence  of  the  Lindley  ham,  Thallon  found 
his  spirits  rising.  He  became  more  talkative,  largely  with 
Mrs.  Lindley,  for  since  his  interview  with  Mrs.  Leverson, 
the  Doctor  had  frequent  lapses   into  fits  of   abstraction. 


30 


THE   BEATEN   PATH 


He  waked  up,  however,  when    he    heard   his  wife   say- 

"  Before  she  was  married  she  used  to  work  down  m  what 
the  Doctor  calls  his  poor  quarter  —  used  to  run  in  here  a 
good  deal,  too,  though  the  Gilbreeds  never  went  much  with 
town  society.  The  other  daughter  was  always  frivolous  by 
my  reckoning,  but  Margaret  was  what  you'd  call  bookish 
and  serious-minded,  though  she  certainly  has  got  over  a 
good  deal  of  that  since  she  had  the  Leverson  money.  The 
Doctor  may  say  what  he  likes,  —  she's  one  of  his  favor- 
ites,—  but  I  don't  think  money's  improved  Margaret 
Leverson." 

"  Well,  well,  we  won't  criticise  her !  Perhaps  it  wouldn't 
improve  us  if  we  had  it,"  the  Doctor  said  absently.  "  By 
the  way,  I  got  in  a  word  with  her  in  your  favor,  Mr. 
Thallon.  It's  just  as  I  thought ;  the  late  incumbent's 
already  departed,  so  you've  got  a  clear  field  ahead  of  you. 
She  advises  striking  while  the  iron's  hot." 

"  I'll  lose  no  time,"  Thallon  said  heartily,  "  and  I'm 
more  than  obliged  to  you  and  to  her." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  Lindley  said,  waving  away  his 
protege's  gratitude  with  a  flourish  of  his  tea-cup.  "  I'm 
only  the  more  pleased  that  Mrs.  Leverson  came  in.  I 
didn't  know  I  cared  so  much  about  the  girl  until  I  saw  her 
seated  there  in  one  of  my  big  chairs  —  where  she  used  to 
curl  up  as  a  little  thing.  Yes,  yes,  we  were  great  friends  in 
those  days.  You  see  she  ran  wild,  more  or  less,  for  her 
mother  was  a  bedridden  invalid  for  years,  and  the  Colonel's 
not  what  you'd  call  motherly.  Well,  however  she's  brought 
herself  up,  she's  got  some  good  stuff  in  her,  has  Margaret 
Leverson.  I'll  admit  I  was  a  trifle  disappointed  that  she 
didn't  accomplish  more  in  the  Leverson  world,  but  I  fancy 
that's  more  of  an  undertaking  than  most  of  us  realize. 
He's  so  hopelessly  sloppy;  I  hate  a  man  who's  sloppy." 

It  struck  Thallon  as  odd  that  this  quality,  which  in  Lev- 


A  MOVABLE  FEAST  3 1 

erson  seemed  to  so  irritate  the  Doctor,  failed,  when  personi- 
fied in  Mrs.  Lindley,  to  make  the  slightest  impression  on 
him.  Possibly  in  her  it  was  too  near  to  be  within  his 
range  of  vision. 

"  Well,  I  shan't  worry  over  the  Leverson  morals  just  at 
present,"  Thallon  remarked,  smiling  at  the  thought  which 
had  just  passed  through  his  mind,  and  talking,  in  conse- 
quence, a  little  at  random.  "  The  work  of  a  private  secre- 
tary has  nothing  to  do  with  morals." 

"  There  I  entirely  disagree  with  you,"  the  Doctor  put  in 
with  a  slight  frown  and  thoroughly  awake  again.  "  All 
work  in  this  world  and  presumably  in  the  next  is  either 
moral  or  immoral  just  so  far  as  it's  done,  or  not  done,  for 
its  own  sake.  Yes,  sir !  I've  always  claimed  there's  mar- 
vellous dignity  in  true  labor.  You've  read  Charles  Kingsley, 
of  course .-' " 

The  Doctor's  new  acquaintance,  though  he  confessed  to 
ignorance  of  the  author  named,  more  than  redeemed  his 
reputation  before  the  movable  feast  was  half  over.  It 
appeared  that  he  had  atoned  for  the  deficiency  by  reading  a 
great  many  other  •  books ;  that  beyond  this  he  possessed 
fairly  well-developed  thinking  powers,  and  was,  speaking 
collectively,  not  at  all  disappointing  to  the  Doctor.  And 
yet^e  remained,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  puzzle  to  the  latter, 
who  himself,  as  transparent  as  crystal  and  imbued  with  an 
extensive  though  not  vulgar  curiosity,  was  inclined  to  resent 
any  very  noticeable  reservations.  Not  that  he  could  have 
put  his  finger  on  any  such  in  the  present  case.  On  the 
contrary,  Thallon  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  perfectly 
frank.  The  impression  that  he  had  left  something  of 
importance  untold  was  merely  a  vague,  a  hardly  recognized 
sensation,  somewhere  deep  in  Lindley's  consciousness. 

And  on  the  other  hand,  as  has  been  said,  what  the  Doc- 
tor had  learned  was  so  eminently  satisfactory.  When  in 
the  course  of  dinner  the  additional  fact  developed  that  this 


32  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Stray  bit  of  humanity  was  a  college-bred  man,  who  had  taken 
to  journalism  as  the  shortest  road  to  fortune,  the  capstone  of 
the  triumphal  arch  which  the  Doctor  had  been  building  in 
his  honor  was  firmly  cemented  in  its  place.  That  in  itself 
was  a  patent  of  nobility  in  the  eyes  of  Lindley,  whose 
great  weakness  was  some  little  conceit  over  his  own  cul- 
ture which,  by  the  way,  was  not  his  strongest  point.  In 
this  congenial  atmosphere  the  Doctor  quite  regained  his 
usual  spirits,  and  in  spite  of  the  length  of  the  board,  and 
the  fact  that  Victoria  had  forgotten  to  make  any  dessert,  it 
was  really  a  very  lively  party  which  rose  from  the  Lindley 
table  half  an  hour  later. 

Mrs.  Lindley  had  evidently  taken  a  great  fancy  to  her 
guest,  and  made  him  promise  to  come  again  before  she 
disappeared  kitchenward  in  search  of  the  pinafores,  while 
the  Doctor  and  Thallon  strolled  back  into  the  consulting 
room. 

"  And  now  I  suppose  you  ought  to  be  off  chasing  for- 
tune," the  Doctor  said,  shoving  a  box  of  big  black  cigars 
across  his  desk  to  Thallon  and  lighting  one  himself.  "  For 
my  own  part,  I  ought  not  to  keep  you,  for  I've  got  a  big 
afternoon's  work  ahead  of  me  besides  that  miserable  busi- 
ness to-night." 

Thallon  found  being  popular  so  pleasant  that  he  took 
advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  encourage  the  Doctor's 
confidence. 

"You  seem  to  count  a  good  deal  on  this  preacher, 
Meyer ;  what  sort  of  a  man  is  he .'' "  he  asked,  with  polite 
interest. 

"  That's  an  easier  question  to  ask  than  to  answer," 
Lindley  said  thoughtfully.  "  He  came  here  some  six  or 
eight  months  ago,  and  began  his  work  at  the  shops  simul- 
taneously with  his  preaching.  I  suppose  he  belongs  to 
one  of  those  numerous  small  sects,  who  think  they've 
found  a  short  cut  to  heaven.     Nevertheless,  he's  got  some- 


A  MOVABLE  FEAST  33 

thing  in  him,  you  can  see  that  in  his  face  —  a  brave  face, 
though  a  sad  one." 

"  I  suppose  it  must  be  a  sad  sort  of  a  life,"  the  younger 
man  said,  instinctively  echoing  the  Doctor's  tone. 

"  Any  one  who  probes  a  little  beneath  the  surface  finds 
matter  enough  for  gravity.  I  imagine  Meyer  has  gone  to 
the  root  of  matters.  I  say  '  imagine,'  for  I've  never  made 
any  effort  to  hear  him,  but  I  know  the  class  he  has  to  deal 
with,  and  it's  discouraging.  Well,  if  you  get  the  situa- 
tion you're  after,  you  won't  be  troubled  with  economics ; 
Leverson  doesn't  spend  his  time  in  that  way." 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  shall  regret  it  much,"  the  other 
said  with  a  short  laugh.  "So  far,  I've  found  keeping  my 
own  head  above  water  about  as  much  as  I  can  attend 
to.  It  seems  to  be  every  man  for  himself,  as  well  as  I 
can  make  out." 

"  You  don't  finish  the  quotation,"  Lindley  answered 
sadly,  "  and  the  rest  of  it  is  equally  true.  It  may  or  may 
not  be  satisfactory  to  know  that  the  devil  usually  does  take 
those  who  drop  out,  but  we  do  know  it." 

"  I've  been  close  enough  to  dropping  out  to  realize  that," 
Thallon  said,  as  they  went  into  the  hall.  The  words  con- 
veyed a  suggestion  of  bitterness  new  in  him,  but  it  was 
gone  again  as  he  held  out  his  hand  at  parting. 

"  Perhaps  I've  got  more  to  thank  you  for  than  a  good 
dinner,"  he  said,  with  a  ring  of  really  genuine  feeling  in 
his  voice.  "  You  see  I've  got  to  one  of  the  rough  places  in 
the  road,  and,  in  spite  of  your  pessimistic  views  about 
Mr.  Leverson,  you've  managed  to  inspire  me  with  fresh 
courage." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  the  Doctor  returned.  "  I  only 
wish  you  well  wherever  you  go,  and  if  I've  been  a  bit  of  a 
help,  why,  pass  it  along,  that's  all.  You're  within  a  square 
of  the  electric  here,  and  you  get  out  at  Locust  Avenue, 
Any  one  '11  show  you  Elmhurst,  as  they  call  what  is  left  of 


34  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

the  old  Leverson  farm.  Good-by,  and  good  luck  to 
you !  " 

The  last  words  were  said  at  the  head  of  the  front  steps, 
dismissing  his  guest  with  one  of  his  hearty  hand-shakes, 
and  then  turning  back  into  his  consulting  room  with  the 
smile  still  lingering  about  the  corners  of  his  large,  plain 
mouth. 

"  On  the  whole  I  like  him,"  he  said  to  himself,  drawing 
out  his  medicine  case  and  beginning  to  refill  it,  "  and  out- 
side of  that  he  interests  me.  I'm  curious  to  know  how 
he'll  affect  Leverson.  It's  a  precious  long  time  since  any- 
thing affected  Leverson." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 

The  smile  had  faded  from  Margaret  Leverson's  face 
before  she  reached  the  corner.  Although  she  walked 
steadily  on,  she  took  more  time  than  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary in  reaching  the  pony  phaeton  at  the  post-office.  It 
was  easy  to  see,  as  she  drove  slowly  down  the  main  street 
of  Brockton,  that  Ashton  Leverson's  wife  had  a  popularity 
peculiarly  her  own  with  the  shop-keeping  class.  That  it 
was  not  ascribable  to  the  commercial  value  of  the  Lever- 
son  patronage  might  have  been  inferred  from  its  not  being 
confined  to  the  heads  of  flourishing  establishments.  Every 
butcher's  boy,  driving  with  the  delightful  abandonment  of 
his  kind,  slowed  up  at  the  sight  of  her  shaggy  pony,  that 
he  might  properly  touch  his  hat  to  her.  When  he  got  a 
nod  and  smile  in  return,  —  as  he  was  pretty  sure  to  do, — 
hok  grinned  with  unfeigned  satisfaction. 

A  mile  or  two  beyond  the  main  street,  however,  she 
was  conscious  of  a  marked  change  in  the  friendliness,  so 
to  speak,  of  her  surroundings.  The  great  factories,  which 
now  filled  the  space  between  the  road  and  Brockton  Creek, 
frowned  down  upon  her  as  if  they  had  been  so  many 
mediaeval  fortresses  prepared  to  resist  her  invasion.  The 
few  visible  denizens  of  the  opposite  tenements  stared  at 
her  from  upper  windows,  or  the  doorways  of  corner 
saloons,  with  stony  indifference  or  a  feeble  curiosity. 
Though  Brockton  born  and  bred,  she  was  obliged  several 
times  to  stop  and  ask  her  way,  using  the  name  of  Raggles 

35 


36  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

with  confidence  as  one  well  known  in  mill  society  —  a  con- 
fidence not  misplaced,  for  she  was  directed,  with  great 
unanimity,  to  a  residence  quarter  some  distance  beyond 
the  factories,  referred  to  by  the  attractive  name  of  "  The 
Swamp." 

The  appropriateness  of  the  title  was  apparent  enough 
when  she  at  last  caught  sight  of  it ;  a  collection  of  half  a 
dozen  wooden  shanties  huddled  together  on  a  bit  of  low- 
land between  the  road  and  the  creek  not  as  yet  utilized 
for  manufacturing  purposes.  Out  of  this  lowland  the  road 
itself  had  been  built  up  until  it  overtopped  the  irregular  roofs 
and  rickety  chimneys,  but  below  the  moisture  of  the  original 
swamp  was  evidenced  by  several  pools  of  stagnant  water, 
steaming  under  the  afternoon  sun.  A  decayed  wooden 
stairway  led  from  a  hole  in  the  fence  above  to  one  of  the 
larger  puddles  of  water  below,  crossed  by  a  couple  of 
heavy  planks  laid  from  the  lowest  step  to  a  bit  of  com- 
paratively dry  ground  beyond. 

Tying  the  pony  to  one  of  the  fence  pickets  with  some 
misgivings  as  to  his  safety,  Margaret  Leverson  descended 
the  stairway,  and,  crossing  this  primitive  bridge,  paused 
before  the  door  of  the  first  cottage  she  came  to  in  some 
uncertainty. 

The  door  was  closed,  and  even  the  blue  cotton  shades 
of  the  two  windows  were  drawn,  though  the  windows 
themselves  were  open,  and  through  them  several  voices  in- 
side were  distinctly  audible.  A  moment  later  these  voices 
ceased,  and  a  man's  voice  of  peculiar  richness  and  power 
went  on  alone,  as  if  he  were  reading ;  the  words,  those  of 
St.  John  the  Evangelist,  beginning,  "  I  am  the  resurrec- 
tion, and  the  life." 

Margaret  frowned  slightly,  a  sensation  of  annoyance, 
curiously  enough,  uppermost  in  her  mind.  Her  hand  had 
been  upon  the  rough  wooden  latch  of  the  door,  but  it 
dropped  to  her  side,  and  she  stood  there  Ustening.     To  a 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  37 

girl  of  Margaret  Leverson's  education  and  environment, 
any  participation  in  an  emotional,  religious  service  was  in 
itself  repugnant.  In  her  own  estimation  of  her  character 
she  had  already  passed  through  a  period  of  certain  high, 
though  vague,  enthusiasms  which  had  led  her  nowhere. 
They  had  left  her  doubtful,  not  only  of  their  own  efficiency, 
but  in  the  efficiency  of  any  sustained  effort  toward  exalted 
spiritual  activity.  Membership  in  St.  Stephen's,  under  the 
preaching  of  the  Rev.  Cuthbert  Faucon,  had  not,  in  Mar- 
garet's case,  proved  an  incentive  to  an  emulation  of  the 
early  Christian  martyrs.  She  had  come  here  to-day  to 
express  a  purely  animal  sympathy  which,  however  deep 
and  real,  had  in  it  no  uplifting  purpose  that  she  was  con- 
scious of.  With  an  immature,  unformed,  quite  unrecog- 
nized scepticism,  she  had  seen  nothing  in  that  prompting 
under  which  she  still  acted,  beyond  the  obvious  duty  of 
the  helping  hand.  Even  that  was  only  obvious  because  it 
came  to  her  with  the  authority  of  an  intuition.  The  same 
thing  comes  to  all  animals  which  have  developed  hearts, 
notably,  dogs.     This  impulse  was  all  she  had  to  offer. 

The  feeling  that  she  had  been  forestalled  by  something 
these  people  would  probably  like  better,  came  to  her  as  a 
distinct  disappointment,  yet  the  characteristic  thing  about 
the  girl  was,  that  despite  all  this,  she  never  thought  of 
retreat.  Gilbreed  had,  at  least,  transmitted  this  one  of  his 
few  virtues  to  his  eldest  daughter.  His  tenacity  was  pro- 
verbial in  Brockton.  The  main  difference  between  them 
was  that  the  Colonel's  grip  on  things  was  exercised  exclu- 
sively for  his  own  benefit. 

But  in  the  midst  of  her  undefined  dissatisfaction  she 
found  herself  listening.  If  the  man  were  reading,  he  cer- 
tainly read  well,  giving  to  words  she  knew  by  rote  a 
deeper  significance  than  she  had  believed  them  capable 
of.  Or  was  it  only  that  the  penetrating,  resonant  voice, 
despite  herself,  touched  some  chord  long  dormant  in  the 


38  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

depths  of  her  soul,  and  set  it  vibrating  in  unison  with 
its  own  harmony.  How  it  made  the  words,  "  I  know  that 
my  Redeemer  liveth,"  ring  with  a  triumphant  certainty; 
how  insistent  a  faith  resounded  in  that  last  Une,  "  yet  in 
my  flesh  shall  I  see  God  "  ! 

But  though  for  the  moment  her  trained  ear  revelled  in 
the  music  of  the  voice,  the  feeling  of  disappointment  was 
still  there.  For  anything  she  knew,  she  might  be  expected 
to  read  the  Bible  to  these  people,  and  if  she  were,  she 
could  not  possibly  read  like  that.  She  had  no  such  voice, 
and,  she  added,  with  her  usual  frank  introspection,  she 
had  no  such  faith. 

The  loud  sobbing  of  several  women  had  broken  in  upon 
the  reading.  For  a  moment  the  reader  paused  as  if  he 
faltered  in  his  task,  then  went  on  again  with  renewed 
firmness  through  line  after  line  of  the  Poet  King,  repeat- 
ing a  note  struck  three  thousand  years  before  as  if  it  had 
been  but  yesterday :  "  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil :  for  thou 
art  with  me."  Then  it  ceased.  Inside  there  was  the 
shuffling  of  heavy  shoes  —  a  lighter  step  —  the  door  of  the 
shanty  was  thrown  violently  open,  and  a  tall  girl,  perhaps 
a  year  or  two  older  than  herself,  stood  confronting  her 
upon  the  threshold. 

Her  slight  though  shapely  figure  was  clothed  in  a  slat- 
ternly, calico  dress,  which  she  had  torn  open  at  the  throat, 
as  if  the  heat  of  the  room  inside  had  stifled  her.  Her 
face,  distorted  and  discolored  as  it  was  by  recent  weeping, 
was  still  strikingly  handsome,  and  despite  her  obvious 
misery,  she  held  her  head  high,  with  a  carriage  which  had 
a  touch  of  defiance  in  it.  There  was,  in  fact,  more  than  a 
touch  of  defiance  in  the  look  she  gave  the  would-be  visitor,  — 
that  is,  as  soon  as  it  ceased  to  be  one  of  amazement,  —  for 
the  encounter  was  evidently  as  unexpected  upon  the  one 
side  as  upon  the  other. 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  39 

Margaret  Leverson  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  I  came  to  see  Mrs.  Raggles  in  her  trouble,"  she  said 
simply.     "  I'm  Mrs.  Leverson." 

The  girl  had  turned  and  carefully  closed  the  door,  which 
opened  into  a  tiny  hall  behind  her,  and  now  stood  there 
facing  Margaret  as  if  she  were  determined  to  bar  her 
entrance,  and  to  prevent  her  presence  being  known  to 
those  within.  In  both  objects  she  was,  so  far,  perfectly 
successful.  They  had  begun  to  sing  a  hymn,  and  could 
by  no  possibility  have  heard  Margaret,  who  had  purposely 
spoken  in  a  low  tone. 

At  Mrs.  Leverson's  mention  of  her  name,  the  girl's 
seemingly  causeless  antagonism,  typified  in  the  dull  red 
which  burned  upon  her  cheeks  like  some  hidden  fire 
newly  fanned,  burst  into  flame. 

"Well,  ye  can't  see  'er,"  she  said  in  a  voice  none  the 
less  savage  that  she  kept  it  low  pitched,  and  speaking  with 
an  evident  effort  to  make  every  word  tell.  "  Ye  can't  see 
Mrs.  Raggles  in  her  trouble;  'cause  why.?  'Cause  she 
ain't  no  show  for  rich  folks  ter  come  an'  look  at !  That's 
why ! " 

"  You  have  no  right  to  speak  to  me  in  that  way ! " 
Margaret  said,  holding  firmly  to  her  purpose,  and  not 
without  strong  resentment.  "  I  have  a  right,  at  least,  to 
offer  her  my  sympathy.  There  are  things  which  can  be 
said  at  such  a  time." 

"  An'  ain't  they  bein'  said  now .?  Ain't  ther  preacher 
in  there  tellin'  her  this  very  minute  it's  all  fer  the  best, 
jus'-as-if  she  didn't  know  that  already.  Jus'-as-if  she  didn't 
know  'twas  better  ter  lose  the  kid  than  to  have  it  grow  up 
like  me." 

"  I  had  no  intention  of  telling  her  it  was  all  for  the  best," 
Margaret  said,  puzzled  at  the  strange  personality  of  the 
girl,  yet  the  tension  on  her  own  nerves  relieved  by  the  curi- 
ous turn  in  events  which  her  presence  had  brought  with  it. 


40 


THE  BEATEN   PATH 


"  Well,  'tis,  whether  ye  say  so  or  not.  Do  ye  think  she 
don't  know  what  was  waitin'  fur  it  with  me,  the  livin'  pic- 
ter  of  the  life,  standin'  here  afore  her  ?  No  sir-ree  !  The 
Raggles  kids  is  Hke  me,  they  is,  a  sight  too  good-lookin' 
to  do  well  in  this  world,  —  nor  in  t'other  one  either,  if  they 
don't  git  there  airly." 

"Were  you  her  sister.?"  Margaret  asked,  terribly 
shocked,  though  she  was  far  from  grasping  the  full  sig- 
nificance of  the  girl's  words. 

"  No,  I  wam't,  but  that  don't  make  no  difference.  I'm 
Louise  Dupre.  Canada  French  my  folks  is,  but  I  was 
bom  hereabouts,  somewhere.  All  I  know  is  we've  lived 
in  the  swamp  in  that  shanty  over  yonder  since  long  afore 
th'  kid  come.  I've  seed  it  grow  up  from  a  little  soft,  help- 
less thing  that  the  women  kissed  and  crooned  over,  till  it 
got  big  enough  to  toddle  an'  be  played  wid  after  work 
hours.  I've  seed  it ;  but  what's  the  use  er  talkin',"  the 
girl  broke  off  with  a  dry  sob,  though  she  still  kept  her 
defiant  eyes  on  Mrs.  Leverson's  face. 

Led  by  the  deep,  strong  voice  the  singing  of  the  hymn 
still  went  on  —  Newman's  hymn,  "Lead,  kindly  light." 
To  Margaret  the  girl's  words,  even  the  girl  herself,  seemed 
ghastly  by  contrast. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  for  you,"  she  said,  struggling  with 
that  horrible  oppression  which  now  seemed  shutting  down 
upon  her  like  a  nightmare ;  using  the  words  without  any 
thought  of  their  effect  upon  the  girl,  using  them  simply  as 
a  relief  to  her  own  overburdened  soul. 

For  a  moment  Louise  Dupr6  looked  at  her  doubtfully 
(which  in  itself  was  a  change  for  the  better)  and  then, 
moved  by  one  of  those  strange  impulses  which  seemed 
her  only  impelling  force,  left  her  place  in  the  doorway 
and  advanced  a  step  or  two  toward  her. 

"  It  ain't  in  reason,"  she  said  slowly,  "  that  you  can 
really  care,  but  perhaps  I  ain't  got  no  right  to  keep  ye 


THE   VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  4I 

from  sayin'  so.  The  preacher  '11  be  goin'  in  a  minnit,  and 
anyway,  I  s'pose  they'd  be  a  good  bit  set  up  by  yer  comin'. 
It'll  be  something  more  to  git  into  the  papers,  an'  the  more 
they  git  inter  them  the  better  they  like  it." 

Though  this  frank  disclosure  of  a  weakness  for  publicity 
on  the  part  of  the  Haggles  family  was  neither  in  good 
taste  nor  good  nature,  it  was  perfectly  evident  to  Margaret 
that  what  the  speaker  resented  was  a  supposed  invasion  of 
the  sacredness  she  attached  to  her  own  sorrow.  Viewed 
in  this  light  it  had  its  extenuation,  as  had  even  the  girl's 
ungracious  treatment  of  herself.  She  saw,  however,  that 
any  further  talk  was  useless,  so  contenting  herself  with 
laying  her  hand  kindly  on  the  girl's  arm,  as  she  passed  her, 
she  stepped  to  the  door  and  knocked,  feeling  some  encour- 
agement in  the  thought  that  she  had  come  out  triumphant 
in  this  first  encounter. 

After  some  delay  and  renewed  shuffling,  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  thick-set  man  who  stood  staring  at  her  stupidly, 
though  after  she  had  given  her  name  and  the  reason  of  her 
visit,  he  held  it  wide  enough  open  for  her  entrance  with- 
out the  protest  she  expected.  This  was  evidently  Raggles 
himself. 

The  small,  low-ceiled  room  within  seemed  shrouded  in 
semi-<iarkness  to  eyes  fresh  from  the  bright  sunshine.  For 
several  seconds  Margaret  was  conscious  only  of  a  great, 
white  bed  in  one  corner,  upon  which  lay  a  tiny  form  also 
very  white,  and  of  the  tall  figure  of  a  man  who  stood  beside 
it  against  a  background  of  deep  shadow.  He  was  replac- 
ing a  handful  of  common  wild  flowers  upon  the  dead  child's 
breast ;  his  eyes  fixed  earnestly  upon  the  small,  white  face. 
At  Margaret's  entrance,  however,  bringing  with  it  a  mo- 
mentary gleam  of  light  from  the  open  door,  he  turned 
toward  her,  his  face  breaking  into  a  grave  smile,  as 
it  might  have  done  had  he  expected  and  wished  her 
presence. 


42  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Margaret,  though  she  knew  of  him  by  hearsay  only,  had 
no  difficulty  in  recognizing  Meyer,  the  mill  preacher,  in 
this  strange  presence  which  so  easily  dominated  the  little 
room.  She  was  not  even  sure  —  and  the  sensation  was 
displeasing  to  her  —  that  it  did  not  dominate  her  own 
personality  as  well.  She  felt  impatient  with  herself  for 
harboring  the  passing  fancy  that  the  delicate,  refined  face 
was  strangely  luminous  in  the  surrounding  gloom. 

It  was  evident  enough,  now,  that  he  had  been  simply 
repeating  from  memory  the  words  she  had  overheard,  but 
all  that  only  occurred  to  her  afterwards ;  at  the  time  she 
was  only  oddly  possessed  by  the  impression  that  he  and  she 
were  alone  with  the  dead  child,  almost  in  a  world  by  them- 
selves. Yet  she  knew  that  besides  the  man  Raggles,  who 
had  let  her  in,  there  were  three  women  in  the  room,  two 
of  whom  presently  rose  and  went  out  softly ;  the  third,  still 
kneeling  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  her  head  buried  in  her 
hands,  was,  of  course,  the  mother. 

Raggles  himself  still  stood  by  the  door  shifting  uneasily 
from  one  foot  to  the  other,  a  sense  that  something  ought 
to  be  done  by  way  of  proper  reception  of  so  distinguished 
a  guest  obviously  growing  strong  upon  him. 

"  It's  Mrs,  Leverson,  Lizzie,  come  in  her  own  kerridge," 
he  at  length  broke  out,  with  admiring  emphasis  upon  the 
last  word  despite  a  quick  motion  on  Margaret's  part  en- 
joining silence.  "  An'  particular  kind  it  is,  mum,  fer  a 
fine  lyedie  Uke  yersel'  ter  come  at  a  time  like  this,  when 
the  poor's  i'  trouble.  What  wid  funeral  expinses  an'  ther 
like  —  " 

His  wife,  who  had  risen  from  her  knees,  here  suppressed 
further  speech  upon  the  part  of  her  ingratiating  husband 
with  a  look  of  withering  contempt. 

"It's  not  worritin'  'bout  funeral  expenses  I  am,"  she 
said,  flushing  hotly  through  her  tears.  "There  ain't  no 
use    anybody's    comin'   if    they   can't    gimme   back    the 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  43 

baby ;  an'  all  ther  Leverson  money  can't  do  that,  I'm  sup- 
posin'." 

"  Please  don't  think  of  me  as  Mrs.  Leverson,  but  just 
as  another  woman  who  feels  for  you  and  sorrows  with 
you,"  Margaret  said  earnestly.  "  I  know  I  can  do  noth- 
ing more  than  that,  but  surely  that  is  something." 

It  was  in  fact  what  she  had  come  to  say.  Words  as  far 
removed  from  the  high  note  struck  by  the  preacher  as 
from  the  sordid  misery  of  Raggles.  Meyer's  face  had 
clouded  when  the  man  had  spoken,  but  now,  as  Margaret 
glanced  at  it  as  if  in  confirmation  of  what  she  said,  it  bore 
again  the  smile  of  comprehension  and  approval. 

The  woman  looked  doubtfully  at  her  for  a  moment,  the 
same  look  that  Margaret  had  seen  on  the  face  of  Louise 
Dupre ;  then  her  face,  too,  lit  up. 

"  Ye  means  well  enoug',  lyedie,  I'm  mistrustin',"  she  said 
slowly.  "Ye  may  be  comin'  agin  when  I  can  be  more 
civil,  but  leave  me  now  wid  ther  child,  the  time's  so  short 
Uke." 

Margaret  pressed  for  an  instant  the  large,  coarse  hand, 
then,  her  own  eyes  well  under  control,  she  left  the  room 
silently.  It  was  a  close  shave,  and  she  felt  that  she  had 
won  her  shoulder-straps.  Snivelling  over  other  people's 
sorriaws  was  a  wretched  way  of  helping  them,  according  to 
her  creed. 

When  she  reached  the  world  outside,  she  found  that 
Meyer  had  followed  her,  and  now,  touching  his  worn  work- 
man's hat,  joined  her  without  further  apology.  The  look 
of  ineffable  sadness,  which  she  had  seen  upon  his  face  at 
Raggles'  words,  had  not  returned.  An  expression,  almost 
triumphant,  had  stamped  itself  upon  the  firm  mouth. 
Despite  the  lines  of  past  toil  and  suffering,  despite  an  al- 
most infinite  patience  which  glowed  in  the  dark  eyes  as 
if  they  knew  that  his  chosen  calling  could  bring  him 
nothing  but  work  and  sorrow  in  the  years  to  come,  it  was 


44  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

the  face  of  a  man  who  would  welcome  both, —  sure  of  the 
end. 

Margaret  was  conscious  that  Louise  Dupre,  in  charge 
of  several  small  Raggleses,  was  standing  before  one  of  the 
cottages  a  hundred  yards  off,  regarding  her  curiously. 
Several  stragglers  on  the  road  above  had  stopped  to  look 
down  at  them. 

All  this  annoyed  her.  She  felt  herself  anxious  to  get  away, 
and  yet  she  lingered.  Still  against  her  will  she  felt  as  she 
stood  there  with  him,  as  if  they  shared  in  common  some 
great  spiritual  purpose,  though  she  had  never  seen  him 
until  to-day  —  had  not  as  yet  exchanged  a  word  with  him. 
The  absurdity  of  the  fancy  was  perfectly  clear  to  Margaret 
Leverson's  very  practical  mind.  With  nothing  but  kindly 
feeling  for  him  and  his  work,  they  could  really  have  but 
very  little  in  common. 

Bowing  slightly,  she  turned  to  go  when  he  stopped  her 
with  a  word. 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  for  them,"  he  said  with  his  usual 
quiet  earnestness.  "  They  do  not  themselves  know  how  to 
thank  you." 

"  It  was  nothing,"  she  said  coldly.  "  I  could  have  done 
no  less." 

"  Nay,  you  have  done  all,"  he  answered  smiling.  "  You 
have  brought  them  infinite  pity  —  which  is  God!  " 


CHAPTER  V 


LAZARUS   AND    DIVES 


Mrs.  Leverson's  frank  eyes  had  been  fixed  rather 
searchingly  on  Meyer's  face  as  he  uttered  those  fervid, 
almost  passionate  words  of  thanks.  Apparently  quite 
unconscious  of  having  given  any  offence,  he  had  borne  the 
scrutiny  very  well.  For  the  moment  his  enthusiasm  had 
seemed  to  her  so  grossly  exaggerated  as  to  almost  suggest 
personal  flattery  ;  something  difficult  for  her  to  forgive  in 
any  one ;  doubly  so  in  an  utter  stranger  and  a  man  of  his 
class,  of  whose  sincerity  she  was  by  no  means  certain. 

Then  came  a  reaction,  and  she  saw  the  thing  in  a  totally 
different  light.  What  he  had  said,  when  she  came  to 
analyze  it,  had  no  personal  application  whatever ;  he  had 
but  done  reverence  before  an  abstract  quality  to  which  she 
herself  had  laid  claim  in  her  first  words  to  Mrs.  Raggles. 
He^had  simply  accepted  the  character  she  herself  had 
assumed ;  how  contemptible  she  was  to  have  thought 
anything  else. 

The  consciousness  of  having  done  him  an  injustice  in 
this  regard  did  much  to  modify  her  first  prejudice  against 
him,  or  rather  against  the  fervid,  religious  atmosphere  with 
which  his  presence  seemed  to  surround  her.  She  would 
have  been,  in  any  case,  anxious  to  avoid  the  betrayal  of 
any  feeling,  or  lack  of  feeling,  which  could  have  hurt  a 
sensitive  soul,  obviously  struggling  against  great  odds. 
For  all  suffering  things  Margaret  Leverson  had  a  great 
fund  of  latent  tenderness,  stored  somewhere  deep  in  her 

45 


46  THE  BEATEN   TATH 

own  starved  soul,  that  only  reached  the  surface  now  and 
then  in  a  touch,  a  nod,  or  a  smile. 

She  had  turned,  and  was  walking  slowly  toward  the 
stairs  which  led  to  the  road  above,  now  lying  in  the  glori- 
ous warmth  of  the  afternoon  sun.  Here  below,  in  the 
hollow,  the  shadows  of  the  coming  evening  had  fallen 
before  their  time.  Despite  the  warmth  of  the  spring  day 
there  was  already  a  damp  chill  in  the  air ;  the  place  itself 
was  inexpressibly  desolate. 

"  What  a  horrible  place  for  human  beings  to  live  in," 
she  said  with  a  shudder,  addressing  Meyer,  who  still 
walked  by  her  side,  her  eyes  on  the  puddles  of  stagnant 
water  on  either  side  of  the  muddy  path. 

"We  are  doing  what  we  can,"  he  answered  in  a  tone 
of  eager  explanation,  "  to  make  it  better.  We  are  cut- 
ting drains  at  the  back  toward  the  creek  and  have  even 
begun  filling  in.  In  a  few  days  we  hope  to  reach  this  part 
of  the  ground,  though  it  is  less  dangerous  than  the  other, 
having  only  surface  water." 

"  But  why  have  they  built  their  cottages  in  such  a  swamp .-' 
There's  surely  land  enough." 

"  Not  waste  land  like  this,  which  they  can  have  for 
nothing,  that  is  near  enough  to  the  mills  for  them  to  walk 
to  their  work.  Some  day,  of  course,  they  will  count  this 
as  valuable  for  mill-building  purposes,  but  in  the  meantime 
it  is  held  as  worthless.  Years  ago  the  Canadian  French 
and  some  of  the  Irish  took  advantage  of  that  to  put  up 
these  cottages,  and  they  have  squatted  here  ever  since,  — 
mostly  the  poorer  laborers  who  earn  low  wages." 

"  They  must  be  very  poor  to  live  in  a  place  like  this," 
she  said,  glancing  back  at  the  cottages. 

"  A  two-room  tenement  in  the  town  would  cost  them  six 
dollars  a  month.  They  save  that  here,"  Meyer  answered 
sententiously,  as  if  that  explained  everything. 

"  But  they  have  no  right  to  make  the  place  a  menace 


LAZARUS  AND  DIVES  47 

to  the  public  health,"  Mrs.  Leverson  said  severely.  She 
wanted  the  man  to  know  she  was  eminently  practical. 

"  That  is  true ;  but  I  have  urged  the  Health  Inspector  to 
give  them  one  more  chance,  because  it  is  equally  true  that 
if  they  are  moved  from  here,  they  have  no  other  place  to 
go  without  giving  up  their  work  in  Brockton.  If  possible, 
I  want  to  avoid  that.  They  have  worked  hard  lately,  — 
for  it  is  only  lately  they  have  learned  what  could  be  done, — 
and  now,  when  it  is  only  a  question  of  a  few  days'  patience 
before  this  work  is  finished,  it  would  be  so  hard  for  them  to 
throw  it  all  away.  You  do  not,  you  cannot  know  what 
it  is  for  these  people  to  move  away.  It  would  be  months 
before  they  found  work  elsewhere." 

He  spoke  in  his  usual  simple  English,  yet  he  empha- 
sized everything  he  said  by  a  rapid  movement  of  the  hands 
which  was  distinctly  foreign.  Perhaps  it  was  that  which 
made  Mrs.  Leverson  especially  notice  them,  when,  having 
reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  he  moved  forward  to  untie 
the  pony  for  her.  She  saw  then  how  worn  and  callous 
they  were,  —  hands  of  the  day  laborer  rather  than  the 
skilled  mechanic;  yet  she  knew  from  the  Doctor  that  the 
man  held  one  of  the  best-paid  positions  in  the  Leverson 
Mills.  She  was  conscious  that  she  had  made  some  little 
delay  in  order  to  observe  him  more  closely.  In  a  sense 
he  was  more  than  worth  the  trouble. 

As  he  stood  there  with  the  gentle  spring  breeze  just 
stirring  his  dark,  wavy  hair,  he  might  have  typified  a  mes- 
senger of  peace,  yet  the  man's  talk,  the  man's  thoughts, 
were  commonplace  enough  —  an  everyday  wrestling  with 
the  rough-hewn  problems  of  a  hard  life,  nothing  pictu- 
resque, much  less  spectacular,  about  them. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  take  so  much  time  away  from 
your  work,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  curiously  as  she 
gathered  up  the  reins. 

"  My  work  }    Why,  that  is  here  !  "  he  answered  as  if  the 


48  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

question  puzzled  him,  waving  his  hand  toward  the  forlorn 
vista  just  below  them,  although  the  gesture  was  sweeping 
enough  to  include  the  alder-fringed  banks  of  the  creek,  the 
railroad  sheds,  and  coal  pockets  on  the  opposite  side,  and  in 
the  distance  where  the  narrower  water  lost  itself  in  the  great 
river ;  smoke-begrimed  Brockton  itself  as  a  background. 

Down  by  the  cottages  the  group  of  Raggles  children, 
dominated  by  Louise  Dupr^,  still  stood  in  the  deep  shadow 
staring  up  at  them. 

"Can  you  find  any  hope  in  such  work  as  that?"  Mar- 
garet said,  without  taking  her  eyes  off  the  girl.  Why  she 
had  singled  her  out  as  the  acme  of  discouragement  she 
hardly  knew  herself,  but  Meyer  seemed  to  understand. 

"  There  is  always  hope,"  he  said  simply. 

"  But  you  can  have  no  influence  with  these  Roman 
Catholics,"  she  said.  "  Either  French  or  Irish,  their 
priests  would  not  allow  you  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
them." 

"  It  is  not  so  bad  as  that,"  he  answered  with  a  sad  smile. 
"  Father  Duffy  is  not  unfriendly,  and  more  liberal  than 
you  think,  but  it  is  true  they  would  not  count  themselves 
among  my  people.  My  being  here  to-day  is  quite  outside 
of  that.     The  Raggleses  are  English  Methodists." 

"  What  up-hill  work  it  is  !  "  she  said  with  a  sigh.  "  Even 
I  can  see  you  are  working  against  enormous  difficulties." 

"  It  is  always  difficult  to  teach  the  love  of  God  and  the 
brotherhood  of  man  to  a  people  who  can  only  see  the  in- 
difference of  the  one  in  the  heartless  greed  of  the  other," 
the  preacher  said  wearily. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  glimmer  of  hard  humor  in  her 
eyes.  His  use  of  a  hackneyed,  much-abused  phrase  had 
brought  back  her  half -effaced  mistrust  of  him.  Though 
she  had  not  been  born  of  the  manufacturing  class,  she  had 
married  into  it,  and  she  had  its  arguments  at  her  fingers' 
ends. 


LAZARUS  AND  DIVES  49 

"  It  might  be  well  for  them  to  take  that  lesson  home," 
she  remarked  composedly.  "  Almost  any  of  them  will  lie 
for  the  sake  of  getting  their  children  into  the  mills  before 
the  legal  age.  Raggles  just  now  would  gladly  have  made 
his  child's  death  a  means  of  profit.  I  don't  think  you'll 
find  the  greed  all  one  side." 

"  I  did  not  say  it  was,"  he  returned  quietly.  "  Far  from 
it !  I  would  have  no  work  here  if  what  you  say  were  not 
true ;  for  if  they  could  live  this  life  and  not  return  greed 
for  greed,  indifference  for  indifference,  extortion  for  extor- 
tion, I  should  be  here  to  learn,  not  teach." 

He  spoke  with  the  first  touch  of  bitterness  she  had 
noticed  in  him.  She  put  it  down  to  class  prejudice,  which, 
while  not  wholly  just,  was  perfectly  natural.  Her  next 
question  showed  no  resentment,  though  there  was  a  con- 
straint in  her  voice  that  had  not  been  there  before. 

"  And  you  go  on  working  quite  alone  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  am  never  alone." 

"  I  mean,  of  course,  as  far  as  human  aid  goes,"  she  said 
with  an  impatience  she  was  instantly  sorry  for.  ' 

"  So  few  know  anything  of  the  work,  but  it  will  come  in 
time,"  he  answered.  He  had  not,  apparently,  noticed  her 
tone ;  in  fact,  spoke  more  to  himself  than  to  her. 

"J  would  like  to  feel  that  I  was  of  some  practical  help," 
she  said  rather  awkwardly,  producing  a  little  steel  purse 
from  a  refractory  pocket,  and  holding  out  its  contents,  at 
most  a  dollar  or  two,  toward  him.  The  Doctor  had  said 
nothing  against  giving  /itm  money.  His  face  flushed  again 
as  he  caught  her  meaning,  and  he  drew  back  out  of  arm's 
reach. 

"  I  can't  take  your  money,  Mrs.  Leverson,"  he  said 
firmly. 

"  Why  not } "  she  asked,  surprise  and  annoyance  dis- 
cernible in  her  tone.  People  like  that  were  not  in  the 
habit  of  thwarting  her  wishes. 


50  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  Because  if  I  took  it,  I  should  not  see  you  here  again, 
and  I  am  very  anxious  to  see  you  here  again." 

"  How  do  you  know  you  would  not  see  me  ?  " 

"  You  would  be  satisfied  you  had  done  all  that  you  could 
do  ;  but  you  would  be  wrong.  Your  interest  —  your  warm, 
deep-stirred,  woman's  interest — is  worth  so  much  more  than 
your  money." 

In  her  pique  it  had  been  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  to  say, 
"You  think  it  worth  more  that  two  dollars,"  for  Margaret 
Leverson  was  possessed  of  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  her 
quick  mind,  staggered  at  the  sight  of  a  missionary  who 
refused  subscriptions,  had  felt  inclined  to  credit  him  with 
playing  for  higher  stakes ;  but  the  way  he  pronounced 
those  last  words  of  his  made  her  feel  as  if  she  had  laughed 
in  some  great  cathedral.  She  saved  herself  by  asking 
soberly :  — 

"  Why  do  you  care  so  much  about  having  my  interest .-' " 

"  Because  you  are  the  only  link  between  this  world  of 
mine  and  that  of  yours.  I  want  to  make  them  both  mine ; 
neither  can  be  what  it  should  be  without  the  other." 

"  But  there  is  plenty  of  charity  work  done  in  Brockton," 
she  said  incredulously. 

"  Not  by  your  world  nor  in  mine,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head.  "  The  time  will  come  when  I  shall  need  you,  even 
more  than  I  need  you  now ;  the  time  may  even  come  when 
you  will  need  me.  I  do  not  ask,  would  not  accept  a 
promise ;  only,  when  you  do  need  me,  come." 

"Very  well,  we  will  leave  it  so,"  she  said,  smiling  at  his 
earnestness  and  wishing  to  bring  him  back,  not  unkindly, 
to  simpler  matters,  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  she  did  not  like 
the  personal  note  he  had  struck.  "Tell  me,"  she  went  on, 
gathering  up  the  reins  again  as  if  she  must  be  going,  "  tell 
me,  when  you  speak  of  your  work  as  centred  here,  do  you 
mean  that  you  think  of  giving  up  your  place  in  the  mill .? " 

"  Very  largely,  yes." 


LAZARUS  AND  DIVES  5 1 

"  But  you  have  got  to  live  ! "  she  exclaimed  incredulously. 

"  I  shall  live  as  long  as  there  is  any  work  for  me  to  do," 
he  answered,  smiling. 

"  If  you  intend  making  your  preaching  your  principal 
work,  your  congregation  ought,  of  course,  to  support  you," 
she  said  with  great  decision. 

"  It  is  all  a  part  of  the  same  work,"  the  man  answered. 
"  Now  it  takes  this  form,  now  that,  as  the  call  may  come. 
When  I  first  came  here,  eight  months  ago,  money  was 
urgently  needed  for  many  things,  and  it  could  be  got  more 
quickly  from  my  earnings  in  the  mill  than  in  any  other 
way.  But  now  it  is  different;  they  begin  to  need  me 
more  than  they  need  my  wages."  His  eyes  sparkled  as 
he  said  these  last  words  with  a  light  she  entirely  mis- 
understood. 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  doing  so  well,"  Margaret  answered, 
smiling  in  her  turn,  and  then,  conscious  that  she  had 
rather  overstayed  her  time,  she  nodded  and  drove  on, 
leaving  him  standing  there  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  his 
workman's  hat  held  respectfully  in  his  hand  until  she  dis- 
appeared around  a  bend  in  the  road.  It  occurred  to  her 
afterwards  that  she  had  never  asked  him  what  sect  he 
represented.  Perhaps,  like  Savonarola,  he  represented 
nothing  so  much  as  his  own  longing  to  reveal  the  Divine 
Love,  in  which  case  it  was  satisfactory  to  know  that  the 
age  he  lived  in  was  more  lenient  toward  such  heresy  than 
that  which  silenced  and  condemned  the  great  ItaHan. 

Still  deep  in  this  rather  odd  comparison,  Margaret  had 
some  excuse  for  starting  slightly  at  the  sound  of  her  own 
Christian  name  pronounced  with  a  good  deal  of  emphasis 
from  the  street  crossing,  as  she  drove  past  the  Central 
Railroad  station  on  her  way  into  Brockton. 

"You  needn't  cut  your  own  father,"  Colonel  Gilbreed 
went  on  with  playful  reproach  as  she  drew  up,  "espe- 
cially as  he  may  be  a  United  States  Senator  before  the 


52  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

end  of  the  month.  I'm  just  in  from  Harrisburg  on  the 
five-thirty  and  would  like  a  lift  as  far  as  Elmhurst,  if  you'll 
be  so  good." 

The  Colonel  was  a  tall,  soldierly  looking  man,  being 
driven  into  the  fifties  under  protest,  as  was  evinced  by  the 
elaborate  care  bestowed  upon  such  remnants  of  his  past 
youth  as  still  remained  to  him.  From  the  thin  black  hair, 
carefully  brushed  over  those  portions  of  his  retreating 
forehead  where  it  would  do  the  most  good,  down  through 
the  gradations  of  his  well-trimmed  mustache,  four-in-hand 
tie,  and  gold-linked  cuffs,  to  his  small  feet  covered  by 
immaculate  patent  leather,  the  best  had  everywhere  been 
made  of  him.  His  voice,  raised  to  the  proper  pitch  of 
paternal  greeting  when  he  began,  was  lowered  in  men- 
tioning his  coming  honors  to  a  tone  of  modest  caution,  and 
he  glanced  back  at  the  sidewalk  to  make  sure  no  one  had 
overheard. 

"Why,  you  said  nothing  about  Harrisburg  when  you 
went  off  with  Ashton  this  morning,"  Margaret  said  in 
some  surprise,  as  she  made  room  for  him  on  the  seat 
beside  her  and  turned  the  pony's  head  homeward.  "  The 
legislature  doesn't  adjourn  for  three  weeks  yet;  I  thought 
you'd  cut  politics  for  a  week.  You  said  the  Senatorship 
was  as  good  as  settled." 

"  So  I  thought  until  I  had  an  infernal  telephone  message 
from  Trotters  early  this  afternoon.  We  put  the  yacht  into 
Beverly  about  one,  and  I  called  him  up  to  see  how  things  were 
going  on,  and  I  found  out  a  great  deal  more  than  I  wanted 
to  know.  So  I  called  up  Mildred  and  told  her  to  wait 
lunch  for  me  until  two  and  took  the  first  train  on.  Nothing 
serious,  you  know,  but  a  case  for  the  boss  plumber  to 
attend  to  without  consulting  his  lawyer.     Comprenez  .'' " 

A  rather  jocular,  altogether  ingratiating  manner  belonged 
naturally  to  the  Colonel  when  he  addressed  a  lady,  even 
when  it  happened  to  be,  as  in  this  case,  one  of  his  own 


LAZARUS  AND   DIVES  53 

daughters,  and  not  his  favorite  daughter  at  that.  He  had 
never  spoken  to  her  mother  in  any  other  tone  from  the 
day  he  had  made  her  his  wife  to  the  day  he  laid  her  in  her 
grave  twenty  years  later;  during  which  period  he  had 
managed  to  squander  every  cent  of  her  very  comfortable 
fortune  with  an  ease  common  to  others  of  his  calibre  and 
an  utter  lack  of  gratitude  peculiarly  his  own. 

"  And  Ashton  ? "  Margaret  asked,  ignoring  the  Colonel's 
delightful  figure  of  speech. 

"  Oh,  he  and  the  two  literary  chaps  had  got  mortal  sick 
of  the  fishing,  —  or  rather  they  got  sick  of  the  fishing  and 
he  got  sick  of  them,  —  so  we  all  took  the  train  back  from 
Beverly,  Ashton  and  his  gay  and  festive  literati  booked 
for  Brockton,  my  humble  self  for  Harrisburg.  As  ill  luck 
would  have  it,  we  met  Faucon  on  the  train  and  Ashton 
got  wind  of  this  nasty  mess  at  the  mills,  which  sent  him 
off  in  a  heavenly  temper  to  Elmhurst — all  of  which  I'm 
sorry  for,  as  it  unfits  my  gentle  son-in-law  for  business.  I 
happen  to  have  an  appointment  with  him  and  Whitelaw 
after  dinner  on  very  important  business.  Provoking,  and 
quite  like  Ashton,  to  go  off  in  the  sulks  simply  to  be  out  of 
the  way." 

"  Out  of  the  way  ?  "  Margaret  repeated  mechanically. 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  to  be  scared  about,"  the  Colonel 
hastened  to  say  reassuringly,  quite  misunderstanding  the 
expression  of  Margaret's  face.  "  They  can't  do  anything 
to  him.  The  only  trouble  with  Ashton  is  that  he  crops  his 
temper  too  short  for  his  own  good.  By  going  off  in  dud- 
geon when  this  thing  first  came  up,  he  missed  the  chance 
of  his  life  to  stand  in  well  with  Brockton.  I  told  him  that 
in  plain  terms  on  the  train  this  afternoon.  Being  one  of 
the  family,  I  felt  I  could  speak  frankly,  mad  or  no  mad.  I 
said :  '  Ashton  Leverson,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  popular, 
I  do.  I've  got  two  children  to  support  in  my  old  age  (more's 
the  disgrace),  and  an  uncertain  legislature  on  my  hands  to 


54  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

guide  and  advise.  Sooner  than  have  you  go  off  home  in  the 
sulks,  I'd  rather  have  had  you  take  a  brass  band  and  make 
a  house-to-house  canvass,  saying  it  was  all  Dobson's  fault, 
and  that  he'd  be  prosecuted  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law.' 
That's  what  I  said  to  him,  and  what  good  did  it  do  ?  He 
just  snorted  at  me  and  went  away.  You  know  what  he  is 
when  he's  roused." 

Margaret,  who  did  know  very  well,  did  not  care  to  dis- 
cuss the  matter. 

"  I  suppose  we'll  see  you  all  out  at  Elmhurst  as  soon  as 
the  legislature  adjourns  ?  "  she  said  to  fill  in. 

"  If  it  adjourns  after  doing  the  proper  thing,  which  I 
reckon  I  can  guarantee,  you'll  have  us  for  the  best  part 
of  the  summer.  When  it's  once  through,  filling  this  hole 
in  the  Senate,  it  can't  last  long.  But,  by  the  bye,  about 
Reggie  —  he's  got  back  from  that  European  trip.  The 
cost  of  the  thing  was  something  fearful  ■ —  fifteen  hundred 
if  it's  a  cent.  I've  told  him  frankly  I  can't  and  won't  pay 
it.  He  started  off  this  morning  to  find  you  —  said  he 
wanted  your  advice.  I  think  we  may  find  him  at  the  house 
when  we  get  there." 

With  these  words  the  Colonel's  tone  (chilled  momentarily 
at  the  mention  of  Ashton  Leverson's  shortcomings)  had  re- 
covered all  its  usual  warmth.  What  the  Colonel  had  accom- 
plished by  his  warmth  of  manner  was  little  short  of  mar- 
vellous, for  he  invariably  used  it  with  more  or  less  definite 
purpose,  as  he  was  using  it  now. 

With  charming  tact  he  had  conveyed  to  Margaret, 
across  the  great  gulf  that  separated  them,  the  essential 
fact  that  she  would  be  expected  to  straighten  out  Reggie 
in  this  his  latest  financial  embarrassment.  The  money 
would  be  nominally  borrowed  of  her,  in  reality  of  Ashton. 
The  thing  had  been  hinted  at  before,  but  this  was  the  first 
time  it  had  been  forced  home. 

She  was  very  tired  and  her  heart  was  very  full.     She 


LAZARUS  AND  DIVES  55 

could  find  no  word  of  protest ;  it  was  not  even  possible  as 
yet  for  her  to  discuss  the  thing.  She  had  a  dim  percep- 
tion that  all  this  was  only  a  part  of  the  great  sacrifice  of 
her  life,  which,  in  a  fit  of  school-girl  enthusiasm,  she  had 
entered  into  so  unflinchingly  two  years  before.  And  this 
was  all  that  had  come  out  of  it. 

It  was  getting  late,  and  her  rapid  driving  was  an  excuse 
for  the  silence  into  which  she  had  fallen.  She  shivered 
slightly,  as  if  she  felt  already  the  chill  of  the  coming  even- 
ing, but  the  Colonel  did  not  notice  it.  He  was  busy  with 
his  own  thoughts,  filled  just  then  with  a  knotty  problem  in 
Henderson  County  politics. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    LEVERSON   CHESS-BOARD 

"  I  TELL  you,  Whitelaw,  he  was  altogether  the  coolest 
hand  I've  had  to  deal  with  in  some  time,"  Leverson  said, 
exhaling  a  long,  meditative  puff  of  tobacco  smoke  into  the 
perfectly  still  evening  air,  as  he  lolled  on  the  balustrade  of 
the  Elmhurst  veranda. 

At  his  feet  lay  the  beautifully  kept  Elmhurst  gardens. 
Beyond,  the  valley  of  the  lower  Susquehanna  stretched 
away  in  seemingly  endless  splendor  into  the  glory  of  the 
west. 

"  He  must  have  been  deuced  cool  to  have  got  the  better 
of  you  in  a  game  of  bluff,"  Randal  Whitelaw  remarked 
with  his  habitual  frankness,  as  he  settled  his  head  more 
comfortably  into  the  cushions  of  his  Morris  chair.  His 
whole  attitude  was  lazy  and  indifferent.  Only  the  prox- 
imity of  Leverson's  legs  obliged  him  to  keep  a  steadying 
hand  on  a  glass  of  iced  whiskey  and  water  which  stood 
upon  a  small  table  at  his  side.  Both  men  were,  for  the 
moment,  completely  unconscious  of  anything  beyond  the 
limit  of  their  own  desultory  talk.  Leverson,  having  finished 
his  whiskey  and  water,  was  tossing  dog  biscuit  to  a  re- 
triever on  the  lawn  below. 

"  There  wasn't  any  game  of  bluff ;  and  I  didn't  say  he 
got  the  better  of  me,"  the  master  of  Elmhurst  retorted, 
without  turning.  "  I  had,  as  you  know,  nearly  given  up 
the  idea  of  a  secretary  after  my  late  experience.     Well, 

56 


THE   LEVERSON  CHESS-BOARD  57 

there  was  something  about  this  young  fellow  which  induced 
me  to  reconsider;  that's  all." 

"  And  that's  a  good  deal,  though  the  reason  therefor  is 
still  somewhat  vague.  Why  the  frigidity  of  the  young 
man  (itself  causeless)  should  produce  this  (for  him)  desir- 
able result,  is  still  beyond  my  poor  comprehension,"  White- 
law  said  languidly. 

There  was  a  certain  ambiguity  about  Whitelaw's  voice 
as  there  was  at  times  about  Whitelaw's  face.  Both  were 
distinctly  good  of  their  kind ;  the  face  clean  shaven,  reg- 
ular, almost  handsome ;  the  voice  strong  and  of  more 
depth  than  most  American  voices.  And  yet,  both  had, 
occasionally,  a  quahty  which,  for  lack  of  a  better  defini- 
tion, might  have  been  called  ironical,  though  it  was  some- 
thing less,  and  more.  This  quality  was  there  now,  though, 
fortunately  for  the  continued  harmony  of  the  present  tete- 
a-tete,  Ashton  Leverson  did  not  recognize  it. 

"Why,  it  came  about  in  this  way,"  the  latter  said,  un- 
clasping his  big  brown  hands  from  about  his  right  knee 
for  the  purpose  of  shifting  his  cigar.  "  I  got  back  from 
Beverly  about  four-forty,  a  trifle  out  of  sorts ;  found  every- 
body gone,  the  front  door  wide  open,  and  an  absolutely 
strange  young  man  seated  comfortably  on  the  sofa  in  my 
library  reading  my  last  copy  of  the  American  Turf,  —  and 
this,  mind  you,  in  a  house  with  a  floating  population  of 
two  or  three  and  twenty,  including  ten  servants  and  four 
dogs." 

"  I  can  perfectly  understand  about  the  servants,"  White- 
law  said  with  recovered  gravity.  "  The  more  you  have 
the  less  likely  they  are  to  be  on  hand  when  wanted ;  but  I 
can't  understand  the  absence  of  the  dogs." 

"Why,  that's  the  crowning  touch,"  Leverson  said,  drop- 
ping his  feet  to  the  level  of  the  veranda  floor  and  swing- 
ing round  toward  his  companion  ;  "  they  weren't  absent ! 
Don,  the  St.  Bernard,  you  know,  was  stretched  across  my 


58  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

best  library  rug,  his  mouth  watering.  Snap,  the  fox- 
terrier,  who  has  fits  of  not  letting  me  come  near  the  house 
when  I'm  a  bit  late,  was  sitting  upon  his  hind  legs  begging 
for  crackers,  which  this  popular  young  man  was  giving 
him  out  of  a  plate  apparently  ordered  for  this  purpose. 
The  cocker  spaniel  was  on  the  young  man's  lap,  intercept- 
ing anything  that  came  in  his  way.  Oh,  I  tell  you  it  was 
subUme !  " 

"  I  don't  question  it,  only  I  don't  quite  see  why  an  intro- 
duction of  this  kind  should  have  led  up  to  the  gentleman's 
engagement  as  a  confidential  secretary." 

"  Now  have  a  little  patience  and  you'll  see  that  and 
several  other  things.  The  curious  part  of  this  story 
hasn't  even  begun  yet." 

Leverson  had  talked  himself  into  the  best  possible 
humor.  His  tall  figure,  which  would  have  been  manly 
had  it  been  less  burdened  with  surplus  flesh,  showed  to  its 
best  advantage  in  a  golf  suit  of  rough  tweed.  His  tanned, 
smooth-shaven  face  missed  comeliness  for  the  same  reason, 
being  too  suggestive  of  pat6  de  foie  gras,  reed  birds,  and 
champagne  to  be  altogether  pleasing.  Nothing,  however, 
save  one  of  his  nasty  tempers,  could  entirely  spoil  the 
beauty  of  Leverson's  brown  eyes.  Just  at  present,  as  he 
felt  himself  about  to  make  an  impression  on  the  very  un- 
impressionable Whitelaw,  they  were  soft  and  warm  like  the 
eyes  of  a  cow.  They  were,  too,  like  that  animal's,  bereft 
of  any  indication  of  a  sense  of  humor ;  as  bereft  of  it  as 
was  his  voice  when  he  laughed  at  his  own  jokes,  —  a 
mechanical  laugh  without  any  ring  of  merriment  in  it.  He 
was  a  good  ten  years  younger  than  Whitelaw,  who  had 
been  John  Leverson's  attorney  in  Ashton's  school  days, 
but  of  the  two  men  on  the  Elmhurst  veranda  that  night, 
the  lawyer  looked  the  younger. 

"  I'm  all  ears,"  the  latter  murmured  absently,  helping 
himself  to  more  cracked  ice. 


THE   LEVERSON   CHESS-BOARD  59 

"Well,  you  can  imagine  I  was  frothing,"  Leverson  re- 
sumed. "  With  three  steps  I  planted  myself  in  front  of 
him  and  opened  up.  '  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here."* ' 
I  began  by  way  of  a  starter.  '  Waiting  to  see  Mr.  Lever- 
son  on  a  mere  matter  of  business,'  he  says  calmly,  getting 
to  his  feet.  Faith,  Whitelaw,  but  he  was  a  daisy !  Stand- 
ing nearly  my  height,  if  not  a  trifle  taller,  and  something 
of  my  build,  too,  when  I'm  in  better  training.  However, 
I  wasn't  thinking  of  training  then.  'Who  sent  you  in 
here  ? '  I  went  on.  '  Your  second  man,  for  the  butler's  out. 
I  told  him  he  didn't  know  his  business,'  he  answered  in  a 
flash.  Well,  that  rather  took  the  wind  out  of  my  sails, 
but  I  brought  her  round  on  another  track.  '  What's  that 
you're  reading .'' '  I  said,  pointing  to  a  book  I'd  caught 
sight  of  below  the  sporting  paper  on  the  sofa  where  he'd 
just  left  it.  '  It's  a  volume  of  poems  I  found  underneath 
the  turf,'  he  said,  grinning  as  if  he'd  said  something  funny, 
'  and  mighty  clever  poems  they  are,'  he  added  in  a  hasty 
way,  as  if  he'd  left  that  out  by  mistake.  '  Can  you  tell 
me  whose  they  are —  I  can't  find  the  author's  name } '  " 

"  I  think  I've  seen  the  volume,"  Whitelaw  said,  smiling 
pleasantly.     "  Red  cover  —  Edition  de  Luxe .'' " 

"  Yes,  —  presentation  copy,  — but  you've  got  to  remember 
that  this  chap  knew  nothing  about  the  thing,  and  that 
my  name  was  purposely  left  off  the  fly-leaf.  Whatever 
else  he  did,  he  took  the  thing  on  its  merits.  There's  the 
book  now  —  look  for  yourself,"  Leverson  added  aggres- 
sively, picking  up  a  dainty  little  volume  from  the  veranda 
table  and  shoving  it  toward  his  companion. 

But  Whitelaw  had  not  come  to  Elmhurst  to  discuss  Lev- 
erson's  new  secretary,  much  less  Leverson's  poetry.  He 
had  come  on  an  important  business  matter  concerning  the 
Colonel,  Leverson,  and  himself,  about  which  he  had  had  a 
right  to  demand  a  conference  at  his  own  office.  He  had 
not  demanded  it  because  he  knew  it  was  useless  to  do  so : 


60  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Leverson  was  always  too  busy  to  attend  to  such  things, 
and  as  an  offset  the  lawyer  could  charge  for  liis  services. 
This  being  so,  Leverson's  prattle  rather  interested  White- 
law.  If  anything,  he  enjoyed  his  client's  unconscious 
humor  more  than  his  whiskey  and  water,  and  certainly  a 
great  deal  more  than  his  poetry. 

He  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  volume  with  a  lazy 
smile  playing  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  His  cigar, 
which  he  had  left  on  the  arm  of  his  Morris  chair,  had 
gone  out.  Whitelaw,  unlike  Leverson,  was  a  wretched 
smoker. 

"Humph!"  he  muttered,  "'Ode  to  Elmhurst's  Broad 
Acres,'  '  Down  the  Susquehanna  on  the  Firefly '  (mostly 
Firefly)."  He  smiled  again  this  time  to  himself,  and  re- 
placed the  volume,  conviction  written  on  every  line  of  his 
well-cut  features. 

"  He  was  clever,"  he  said.  "  By  the  bye,  what's  his 
name  .<* " 

"  Thallon  —  Owen  Thallon.  Comes  highly  recommended 
by  Hartley  &  Bald.  Stunning  letter  from  Bald,  who  isn't 
given  to  enthusiasms,  as  you  know." 

"Oh,  yes;  then  I've  seen  him  —  this  young  fellow,  I 
mean,  in  their  office  —  casually,  you  know,  for  I  don't 
remember  ever  having  spoken  to  him.  I  had  an  idea  he  was 
one  of  their  confidential  men  —  and  was  pushing  ahead. 
Curious  he  should  take  to  —  to  this  sort  of  thing." 

"  Oh,  come !  You  lawyers  think  there's  no  road  to  for- 
tune but  through  musty  digests  and  worm-eaten  reports. 
Besides,  there's  more  ways  than  one  for  him  to  get  ahead 
here,  let  me  tell  you.  He's  got  a  good  deal  in  him  — 
besides  —  besides  —  " 

"  Literary  tastes } "  Whitelaw  suggested  with  suspicious 
gravity. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  say  that ;  but,  however  that  may  be,  he 
did  show  presence  of  mind  when  things  came  to  a  crisis." 


THE  LEVERSON  CHESS-BOARD  6 1 

*'  Crisis  ?     I  don't  think  I  quite  understand." 
"  Well,  it  isn't  too  strong  a  word,  though  what  brought 
it  up  was  ridiculous  enough.    You  see,  I'd  already  touched 
*  the  bell  button  on  my  library  table  before  I'd  said  a  word 
^to  the  man.     Well,  who  do  you  suppose  answered  ?  " 
"  My  guesses  would  probably  be  wide  of  the  mark." 
'•  Why,  no  one  else  than  my  poor  old  nurse,  Jane  Kirk." 
"Yes,  I   recollect  her,"  Whitelaw  said  with  increasing 
interest.     "  She  was  here  with  Miss  Laurie  at  the  time  of 
your  brother's  death.     Those  two  women  kept  him  alive 
for  days.     They  were  so  anxious  to  get  word  to  Florida  in 
time.     You  remember  that  day  we  got  the  telegram  down 
on  the  Kissimee  ?     It  must  have  been  four  days  old  then. 
I  believe  it  was  her  disappointment  over  that  one  thing 
that  turned  her  head.    She  was  sane  enough  before  that,  I 
reckon." 

"Well,  rather!  And  I've  never  believed  since,  till  to- 
day, in  her  being  really  cracked  ;  but  if  you'd  seen  her  for 
a  minute  or  two  just  then  —  well,  never  mind.  You  know 
she's  always  had  the  run  of  the  house,  and  so  I  thought 
nothing  of  it  when  she  came  in  as  quiet  as  a  lamb,  and 
stood  there  waiting  to  be  spoken  to,  —  the  only  decently 
trained  servant  in  the  house,  as  I  said  to  myself  at  the 
time.  This  young  fellow,  Thallon,  was  still  standing  a 
little  to  the  right  of  the  door  she  came  in  by,  and  enough 
behind  the  folds  of  that  heavy  portiere  to  escape  her  notice 
at  first;  but  just  at  the  moment  he  turned  toward  her,  the 
light  from  the  window  fell  full  on  his  face.  She  stood 
there  a  second  or  two,  staring  at  him,  her  mouth  fallen 
half  open,  gave  a  kind  of  gasp,  clutched  at  the  side  of 
the  door ;  then  went  over  in  a  fit  of  helpless  terror,  striking 
at  him  as  if  to  keep  him  away  from  her," 

Leverson  was  certainly  improving  in  his  command  of 
language.  Whitelaw  had  even  begun  to  have  hopes  of 
him  as  the  coming  literary  star.     The  lawyer  ?till  lay  at 


62  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

full  length  in  his  Morris  chair,  but  now  his  sharp  eyes 
were  fixed  on  his  client's  face  like  a  pair  of  needles.  His 
voice,  however,  was  careless  enough  when  he  asked  pres- 
ently :  — 

"  And  didn't  she  say  anything  ?  " 

"  Oh,  only  perfect  gibberish ;  the  kind  such  people 
always  mouth  at  you  when  they're  off.  Poor  Jane ;  she's 
one  of  the  few  human  beings  who  ever  understood  me ; 
even  when  she's  craziest,  she  worships  me." 

"  I  don't  doubt  that,"  Whitelaw  said  with  a  dryness 
beyond  Leverson's  ken.  "  I've  had  a  good  deal  to  do  pro- 
fessionally with  such  people,  I'm  sorry  to  say.  What  odd 
notions  they  do  get  into  their  heads !  " 

"  Don't  they  .■*  Fancy  poor  Jane's  taking  this  young 
fellow  standing  there,  six  feet  in  his  shoes,  for  a  woman." 

"  For  a  woman  ? "    Whitelaw  looked  politely  incredulous. 

"  I  mean  every  word  of  it.  She  kept  repeating  it  over 
and  over  to  herself ;  muttering  under  her  breath,  you 
know  :  *  It's  the  woman  again !  It's  the  woman ! '  And 
we  argued  with  her  for  a  good  five  minutes  after  we  got 
her  on  the  sofa  before  we  could  persuade  her  to  say  any- 
thing else.  Of  course,  half  a  dozen  of  the  other  servants 
were  in  by  this  time." 

"  Did  she  stay  long  like  that .-' " 

"  No ;  oddest  thing  of  all  was  she  didn't !  Came  out  of 
it  as  suddenly  as  she  went  in.  Moment  she  saw  she'd 
roused  the  house  she  seemed  to  want  to  hush  the  thing 
up.  Aunt  Catherine  came  in  in  the  midst  of  it  from  her 
afternoon  walk." 

"  And  how  did  Miss  Laurie  take  the  episode,  —  brand 
new  clerk,  crazy  Jane,  and  all .''  " 

"  With  her  usual  common  sense,  —  not  that  she  and  her 
maid  were  especially  useful.  Long  before  they'd  turned 
up,  Thallon  had  brought  order  out  of  chaos.  He  really 
behaved  very  well.    Turned  his  persuasive  tongue  on  Jane, 


THE  LEVERSON  CHESS-BOARD  63 

you  know.  Assured  her  solemnly  that  whatever  else  he 
was,  he  wasn't  that  —  that  other  woman." 

"  All  this  was  before  Miss  Laurie  and  the  others  came 
in  ? " 

"  Oh,  heavens,  yes !  We'd  got  her  comparatively 
rational  by  that  time,  which  was  a  job,  I  can  tell  you. 
Later,  when  we'd  got  her  out  of  the  room  in  charge  of 
Aunt  Catherine  and  her  maid  (who's  afraid  of  nothing),  I 
said  to  Thallon,  '  Let's  have  a  drink.'  He  said,  *  All  right,' 
and  I  took  a  liking  to  him  from  that  minute,  especially  as 
he  telephoned  to  that  old  fool,  Lindley,  to  come  up  and 
quiet  things.  He  did  that  while  he  was  mixing  a  mint 
julep  by  a  new  receipt,  the  best  of  its  kind  I've  ever 
struck.     Oh,  I  tell  you  he's  a  hustler." 

"  So  you  engaged  him  on  the  strength  of  his  skilful 
management  of  the  insane.'  I've  known  clerical  positions 
before  now  where  it  would  have  been  a  useful  accomplish- 
ment," Whitelaw  said,  getting  slowly  out  of  his  chair  and 
taking  a  pace  or  two  to  stretch  his  legs. 

He  spoke  absently  and  without  looking  at  his  client. 
There  were  moments  when  Randal  Whitelaw  played 
dangerously  near  the  ragged  edge  with  Leverson  without 
apparently  knowing  it. 

"  I  wish  you'd  let  me  tell  my  story  in  my  own  way," 
Leverson  growled,  eying  his  attorney  with  some  distrust. 
"  Besides  his  having  been  with  Hartley  &  Bald,  Thallon 
has  a  newspaper  connection  which  will  prove  immensely 
valuable.  I  talked  over  some  of  my  present  work  with 
him,  and  he  thinks  he  knows  where  he  can  place  it  at 
considerably  less  cost  to  me  than  either  Shaver  or  Worm- 
ley  have  ever  suggested.  Why,  even  'Stray  Bits  of  Verse' 
cost  me  seven  hundred  —  as  you  happen  to  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Whitelaw  said  amiably.  "  I  lost  a  good 
clerk  through  it  when  you  drew  on  me  for  the  money. 
He  said  he  wouldn't  open  another  special  account  for  you 


64  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

on  the  books  of  Whitelaw  &  Co.,  —  not  if  he  were  skinned 
for  refusing.  I  told  him  that  you  wanted  it  called  'A 
Leverson  Poetry  Account.'  He  seemed  to  especially  ob- 
ject to  that." 

"Impudent  young  beggar !  I  wish  I'd  had  the  training 
of  him  !  What  did  he  mind  that  for  ? "  Leverson  asked, 
emitting  ominous  clouds  of  smoke  like  a  volcano  on  the 
eve  of  eruption. 

"  Oh,  I  really  didn't  ask  him,"  Whitelaw  said,  smother- 
ing a  yawn.     "I  simply  sacked  him  for  impertinence." 

Half  an  hour  later,  while  Ashton  Leverson  was  dressing 
for  dinner,  Randal  Whitelaw  still  walked  the  west  veranda 
with  that  peculiarly  noiseless  tread  of  his  which  made 
some  people  nervous.  For  once  in  his  life  he  had  found 
some  food  for  thought  in  Leverson's  remarks,  and  to  judge 
from  his  expression  it  did  not  agree  with  him. 

He  presently  threw  away  the  stump  of  his  cigar,  which 
he  found  he  had  been  chewing,  and  lit  a  fresh  one  to  take 
the  taste  away.  Then  he  replenished  his  glass  from  the 
decanter  on  the  table,  and,  having  drained  it  again  at  a 
swallow,  stood  there  abstractedly  studying  its  emptiness 
in  the  lamplight  which  came  out  through  the  library  door. 
All  these  things  were  very  unlike  Randal  Whitelaw.  It 
was  not  until  he  heard  the  sound  of  rapidly  moving  wheels 
upon  the  gravel  and  recognized  the  voices  of  Mrs.  Leverson 
and  the  Colonel  in  the  front  hall,  that  he  roused  himself 
from  his  abstraction. 

"  It's  all  damned  nonsense,"  he  said  to  himself  impa- 
tiently. "  I'm  in  my  dotage  to  have  even  thought  of  it," 
and  thus  swearing  softly  at  his  own  stupidity,  he  turned 
and  went  in. 


CHAPTER   VII 


THE   FITNESS   OF   THINGS 


Leaving  the  Colonel  to  his  own  devices,  which  might 
be  relied  upon  to  provide  for  his  material  comfort,  Mar- 
garet ran  upstairs  in  quest  of  Ashton. 

Since  her  meeting  with  the  Colonel,  a  realizing  sense  of 
how  her  husband  was  likely  to  regard  her  afternoon's 
work  had  replaced  the  unquestioning  confidence  with 
which  she  had  left  the  Doctor's  office  three  hours  before. 

Her  father's  description  of  Ashton's  return  to  Brock- 
ton had  struck  her  with  all  the  force  of  the  unexpected, 
for  two  years  of  marriage  with  Ashton  Leverson  had  not 
enabled  her  to  find  a  rule  small  enough  to  measure  him  by. 
Her  imperfect  knowledge  of  life,  drawn  almost  entirely 
from  books,  was  no  aid  in  reading  such  a  character,  hav- 
ing left  her  still  capable  of  imputing  motives  to  those 
about  her,  which  under  similar  circumstances  would  have 
formed  the  springs  of  her  own  action. 

This  miserable,  oppressive  doubt  which  was  closing  in 
about  her  seemed  just  then  the  one  thing  she  could  not 
bear.  Her  whole  nature  called  aloud  for  clearer  com- 
prehension. It  was  with  almost  a  sense  of  relief  that 
she  tapped  lightly  on  Leverson's  dressing-room  door,  and 
noted  from  the  tone  in  which  he  said,  "Come  in,"  that 
he  was  alone  and  perfectly  aware  who  was  on  the  other 
side  of  the  oak  panel. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  late,"  she  said,  making  an  effort  at 
her  usual  frank  tone,  though  unable  to  entirely  suppress 
the? troubled  look  in  her  eyes.  "  If  I  had  only  known  you 
'  65 


66  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

were  back  so  much  earlier  than  you  expected  to  be,  I 
might  have  met  you  in  town  and  saved  myself  hours  of 
worry.  I  only  heard  of  your  return  from  the  Colonel 
when  I  picked  him  up  at  the  station  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  Perhaps  it's  quite  as  well,"  Leverson  remarked  without 
turning  from  his  dressing-table,  nor  pausing  in  the  careful 
adjustment  of  his  black  necktie.  "  I  understand  you've 
been  doing  some  electioneering  in  the  Colonel's  interest, 
and  I  might  have  interfered  with  it  if  I'd  been  consulted." 

"  Electioneering  ? " 

She  put  the  question  in  utter  bewilderment,  and  added 
with  absolute  honesty  :  — 

"I  don't — I  really  don't  understand  you." 

"You  have  certainly  utterly  failed  to  understand  your 
position  as  my  wife,  or  you  would  not  have  spent  the 
afternoon  in  gossiping  with  that  idiot  Lindley  about  my 
affairs,  nor  in  making  spectacular  visits  to  Brockton  slums 
to  consolidate  the  Gilbreed  vote,"  Leverson  remarked,  turn- 
ing at  last  and  giving  her  the  full  benefit  of  a  pair  of  angry 
brown  eyes. 

The  Colonel's  appeal  to  him  that  afternoon  had  sug- 
gested the  use  of  the  word  "electioneering."  He  had 
used  it  freely  on  the  Colonel  himself,  when  he  had  repudi- 
ated his  suggestion,  and  practically  told  him  to  mind  his 
own  business ;  but  then,  it  had  not  annoyed  the  Colonel 
in  the  least,  and  to  annoy  some  one  was  just  then  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  Leverson's  comfort. 

And  he  had  succeeded  (such  is  the  adaptability  of  woman 
to  our  daily  needs)  beyond  his  most  sanguine  expectations. 
She  had  come  toward  him  at  her  entrance,  with  her 
habitual  freedom  of  movement,  which  had  a  lingering  sug- 
gestion of  the  child  about  it  and  yet  was  not  unwomanly. 
Leverson,  who  was  not  by  nature  in  the  least  blind  to 
feminine  attractions,  might  have  noticed  at  another  time 
the  graceful  little  movement  of  the  firm  white  hand  on  its 


THE  nTNESS  OF  THINGS  dy 

beautifully  modelled  wrist,  which,  at  her  first  words,  she 
had  laid  for  an  instant  on  his  arm.  Margaret  Leverson 
could  say  so  much  with  her  hands. 

"  I  would  like  very  much  to  know  who  asserts  I  have 
done  either,"  she  said,  as  she  recovered  herself,  his  injus- 
tice throwing  her  on  the  defensive.  "  I  called'  in  the  first 
place  to  ask  the  Doctor  if  I  could  be  of  any  use  to  him, 
though  it  is  also  true  that  I  asked  him  if  the  management 
of  the  mill  could  in  any  way  be  responsible  for  the  acci- 
dent. I  thought  it  was  the  very  thing  you  would  want  to 
know.  I  thought  I  should  try  to  take  your  place  at  such 
a  critical  moment  during  your  absence." 

The  gleam  of  resentment,  which  an  instant  before  had  shot 
from  those  wide,  frank  eyes  of  hers,  had  died  out  again. 
She  had  drawn  a  step  farther  away  and  was  leaning  hst- 
lessly  on  the  back  of  Leverson's  lounging  chair,  her  fingers 
playing  nervously  with  the  buttons  of  its  upholstery.  And 
it  took  a  good  deal  to  make  Margaret  Leverson  nervous. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  question  my  purpose  in  going 
there,"  she  went  on  wearily,  the  faintest  echo  of  wistfulness 
in  the  voice  which  a  word  from  him  would  have  turned  to 
anxious  pleading.  "  I  have  neither  gossiped  about  you  nor 
wished  to  do  anything  spectacular.  It  is  true  the  Doctor 
mfeunderstoodmy  position  fora  single  moment,  but — but — 
he  ended  by  completely  understanding  me.     He  said — " 

"  If  you  mean  that  heapproved  of  the  whole  performance, 
you're  quite  right, "  Leverson  retorted,  too  angry  now  to 
notice  her  admission.  "  He  held  you  up  as  a  charming 
example  of  public  spirit  and  wifely  devotion,  when  I  cut 
him  short  with  the  reminder  that  he  was  here  to  adjust 
Jane  Kirk's  mental  balance  and  not  mine,  and  that  I  was 
perfectly  capable  of  appreciating  my  wife's  noble  qualities 
without  any  assistance  from  him." 

Leverson's  voice  had  risen  as  it  was  very  apt  to  do  at  such 
moments.     When  angry  he  had  no  objection  to  taking  any 


68  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

one,  even  the  servants,  into  his  confidence.  His  heavy 
throat,  which  had  a  strangled  look  within  the  grip  of  his 
stiff  white  collar,  was  even  a  deeper  red  than  usual.  He 
was  savagely  twisting  a  large  white  silk  handkerchief  into 
unrecognizable  tatters  between  his  great  brown  hands,  as 
if  he  were  wringing  the  Doctor's  neck.  To  any  one  whom 
he  had  no  power  to  injure,  he  would  have  looked  inex- 
pressibly funny  as  he  stood  there  like  some  dangerous 
animal,  but  there  were  several  hundred  men  and  women 
not  in  that  happy  category,  and  Margaret  was  one  of 
them.     Yet  though  she  drew  back,  it  was  not  from  fear. 

"  Was  that  all  you  said  to  him } "  she  asked  in  a  voice 
which  sounded  strangely  distant. 

"More  than  that  I  naturally  couldn't  say  as  your  interview 
with  him  was,  apparently,  not  of  his  seeking.  He  may  be 
underbred,  but  there's  a  limit  even  to  his  vulgarity." 

She  flushed  hotly  now  in  her  turn  and  then  grew  deadly 
pale.  To  him  this  little  episode  in  his  married  life  was  like 
a  great  many  others  which  had  preceded  it  since,  on  their 
first  taking  up  life  at  Elmhurst,  he  had  discovered  that  one 
could  not  go  on  forever  being  the  impassioned  lover  of  a 
woman  who  had  frankly  told  him  before  her  engagement 
that  she  could  not  love  him  in  that  way. 

To  her  it  marked  a  period  in  their  relationship.  Though 
she  had  not  always  been  patient  under  his  growing  discon- 
tent, she  had  striven  loyally  to  make  amends  by  self-abne- 
gation, almost  by  self-effacement  in  little  things,  for  the 
great  wrong  she  believed  she  had  done  him  in  marrying  him. 
She  had  never  reminded  him  by  so  much  as  a  look  of  the 
time  when  he  had  urged  their  union  as  the  one  essential  of 
his  life. 

As  is  the  well-worn  usage  of  a  certain  type  of  the  ardent 
lover,  he  had  given  her  to  understand  in  those  early  days, 
which  seemed  so  far  away  now,  that  his  going  to  the  devil 
was  the  absolutely  certain  penalty  of  her  refusal.      If  at 


THE  FITNESS  OF  THINGS  69 

the  age  of  eighteen  she  had  not  discovered  that  marriage, 
whether  viewed  as  a  sacrament  or  a  contract,  has  no  inher- 
ent power  to  prevent  either  party  thereto  from  going  to  the 
devil  if  so  minded,  she  might,  perhaps,  have  been  forgiven 
the  oversight,  in  view  of  her  having  learned  so  much  since, — 
among  other  things,  that  anything  which  Ashton  Leverson 
wanted,  especially  if  difficult  to  get,  was  always,  for  the 
moment,  the  one  essential  of  his  life.  The  only  variety  lay 
in  the  fact  that  at  different  periods  he  wanted  different 
things. 

He  had  just  awakened  her,  somewhat  rudely,  to  the  all- 
important  fact  that  he  no  longer  wanted  her.  What  she 
had  meant  for  loyalty  he  had  resented  as  impertinent  inter- 
ference. 

But  if  in  her  pride  she  felt  abashed,  humbled,  humiliated, 
his  power  to  hurt  her  ended  there.  If  she  had  loved  him, 
the  whole  trend  of  that  one  small  moment  of  their  lives 
would  have  been  so  different.  Then  the  words  he  had  just 
used  might  have  struck  her  down,  but  she  would  have  ral- 
lied and  gone  on  loving  as  women  will ;  now  they  only  cut 
her  adrift  from  him. 

Her  hands  dropped  to  her  sides  and  she  drew  herself 
up  proudly. 

"  Y^u  have  a  perfect  right  to  forbid  my  discussing  any 
affair  of  yours."  She  began  slowly,  for  even  in  her  dis- 
tress she  felt  she  must  make  this  admission  clear  to  him. 
"  But  beyond  that  I  cannot  see  that  you  have  any  right  to 
go,  and  you  would  not  go  beyond  it  now  if  you  were  not 
angry.  My  maintaining  some  vestige  of  my  old  friend- 
ship for  the  Doctor  is  something  much  more  important  to 
me  than  to  him  ;  something  I  cannot  be  asked  to  give  up. 
So  with  these  poor  people;  they  may  be  shiftless,  grasp- 
ing, ungrateful,  —  anything  you  like.  They  may  have 
given  reason  enough  for  complaint.  I  might  agree  with 
you  in  condemning  them  in   many  things,  but  the   one 


70  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

thing  I  cannot  do  is  to  ignore  them  —  if  I  am  to  go  on 
living  here." 

Leverson  looked  at  her  in  absolute  bewilderment.  He 
had  the  reputation  of  being  easy-going,  and,  in  a  way, 
rather  liberal  with  his  hands.  If  Whitelaw,  at  a  Directors' 
Meeting,  reported  to  him  that  there  would  be  a  row  if  an 
advance  was  not  agreed  to,  he  invariably  voted  for  the 
advance.  There  were  five  Directors  in  the  management 
of  the  Leverson  Corporation,  so,  if  he  was  outvoted,  it 
was  certainly  not  his  fault.  At  such  times  he  usually 
went  out  of  town,  feeling  justified  in  leaving  his  coadju- 
tors to  fight  it  out,  not  because  he  was  afraid  of  a  row,  but 
because  that  kind  of  a  row  interfered  with  his  amuse- 
ments. Whitelaw,  as  Vice-president  of  the  Company, 
never  had  the  slightest  objection  to  do  anything  in  the 
Leverson  interest,  because,  as  the  President  had  the  satis- 
faction of  knowing,  the  Leverson  interest  was  his  ;  besides 
which,  Whitelaw  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  heartless 
brute,  so  he  had  nothing  to  lose. 

And  now  a  girl  of  twenty  calmly  informed  him  that  she 
proposed  maintaining  relations  with  these  people  whether 
he  liked  it  or  not,  —  relations  which  at  some  critical  mo- 
ment might  jeopardize  the  interests  of  three  million  dollars 
worth  of  stock,  Leverson  could  not,  in  reason,  be  expected 
to  argue  the  matter,  but  he  put  this  view  of  the  fitness  of 
things  before  his  misguided  wife  in  very  forceful  language. 
If  he  allowed  her  to  take  up  district  visiting  among  the 
Brockton  mill-hands,  she  could  do  so  only  as  his  wife,  and 
every  mother's  son  of  them  would  regard  her  as  his  agent 
and  go-between.  Under  the  circumstances  she  had  better 
reconsider  whether  or  not  he  had  a  right  to  forbid  it.  He 
certainly  did  forbid  it,  —  right  or  no  right.  In  charity  he 
would  suppose  the  idea  would  never  have  entered  her  head 
if  it  had  not  been  for  Lindley , —  a  very  worthy  person,  no 
doubt,  when  kept  in  his  proper  place,  but  overfond  of 


THE  FITNESS  OF  THINGS  71 

posing  and  with  a  vulgar  longing  for  such  notoriety  as 
would  accrue  to  him  from  having  Mrs.  Leverson  as  an 
assistant  in  running  the  Brockton  tenements.  The  idea 
was  disgusting,  to  say  the  least  of  it. 

He  was  so  absorbed  by  the  force  of  his  own  words,  that 
he  did  not  notice  the  misery  written  in  her  face,  or  mistook 
it  for  proper  contrition  and  wifely  submission.  Only  at 
his  last  words  her  shapely  head  went  up  again.  She  waved 
aside  all  the  rest  of  it  as  of  no  importance  beside  that. 

"How  dare  you  call  him  vulgar,"  she  cried  passionately, 
"  or  imply  that  I  have  been  so  in  going  to  him !  You 
know  —  no  one  better  —  how  old  and  tried  a  friend  he  is. 
You  know  I  would  never  have  gone  to  him  had  I  not  been 
sure  of  his  loyalty  !  " 

"  Do  you  refer  to  his  loyalty  to  me  .?  "  Leverson  asked 
politely,  adjusting  his  cuffs.  He  had  cooled  rapidly  as 
he  saw  the  hot  color  mounting  to  her  face ;  he  had  freed 
his  mind,  gained  a  complete  victory,  was  by  her  own  ad- 
mission absolutely  in  the  right.  His  last  reference  to 
the  Doctor  was  almost  playful,  Lindley  had  notoriously 
opposed  him  on  one  or  two  matters  of  public  concern,  and 
it  had  come  to  Leverson's  ears  that  he  had  criticised 
"  Stray  Bits  of  Verse." 

To  Margaret  differences  of  opinion  on  such  matters 
seemed  compatible  with  honorable  and  even  friendly  treat- 
ment. She  had  known  the  Doctor  capable  of  both,  but  to 
Leverson  such  heresy  was  unforgivable.  He  would  have 
taken  away  the  Elmhurst  patronage  from  Lindley  long 
before,  save  that  he  knew  he  risked  his  life  if  he  employed 
Smalls.  Leverson  never  permitted  pique  to  interfere  with 
his  personal  comfort,  much  less  safety.  He  had  reason  to 
believe  that  there  was  something  serious  the  matter  with 
his  liver,  and  an  open  quarrel  with  Lindley  might  mean 
life  or  death  to  him.  Leverson  was  physically  afraid  of 
nobody,  but  he  was  dreadfully  afraid  of  his  own  liver. 


72  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  refer  to  his  loyalty  to  truth  and  to  your  true  interests," 
Margaret  went  on  gravely.  "  I  knew  he  would  never  sanc- 
tion my  visiting  your  working  people  if  he  thought  it 
could  prejudice  your  interests." 

"You'll  pardon  me  if  I  think  I'm  the  best  judge  of 
that,"  Leverson  said  quite  mollified,  he  was  so  obviously 
in  the  right. 

"  You  were  not  here  to  judge,  and  I  thought  I  was  help- 
ing you,"  she  said  more  slowly  still,  because  of  the  press- 
ure at  her  throat,  and  then  with  a  little  broken  cry  and  a 
sudden  passionate  movement  of  those  expressive  hands : 
"  Oh,  you  might  have  known  !     You  might  have  known  !  " 

"  Oh,  come !  don't  be  hysterical,  Madge,"  he  broke  in 
half  impatiently,  half  kindly,  for  his  burst  of  temper  had 
spent  itself,  and  his  complete  triumph  was  in  itself  most 
soothing.  "  If  you  only  wouldn't  do  such  aggravating 
things,  we'd  got  on  so  much  better.  You  know  I'v^  al- 
ways wanted  to  get  on.  Come,  run  along  and  dress  for 
dinner." 

There  was,  perhaps,  some  lingering  touch  of  real  tender- 
ness under  his  careless  words,  but  it  had  come  too  late. 
In  choking  back  a  woman's  tears,  so  rare  with  her,  she  had 
stifled  her  keenest  longing  for  appreciation  and  under- 
standing. Yet  he  was  very  far  from  guessing  it  as  in 
silence  she  passed  on  into  her  own  rooms,  and  closed  the 
door  behind  her. 

Left  in  possession  of  the  field,  he  began  humming  an  air 
from  some  light  opera,  always  a  sign  with  Leverson  that 
he  was  entirely  satisfied  with  the  situation.  As  for  her, 
she  was  already  taking  up  the  little  round  of  trivialities 
which  must  be  gone  through  with,  even  when  we  have  just 
discovered  that  life  is  hardly  worth  living.  If  her  obli- 
gation to  dress  for  dinner  inside  the  next  twenty  minutes  did 
not  quite  absorb  her  thoughts,  its  accomplishment  seemed 
likely  to  absorb  every  moment  of  that  space  of  time. 


THE  FITNESS  OF  THINGS  73 

Margaret  found  her  maid  waiting  for  her  in  her  own 
room,  and  had  every  reason  to  believe  she  had  overheard 
a  large  portion  of  Leverson's  pithy  remarks.  After  the 
manner  of  her  kind,  her  devoted  attendant  succeeded  in 
making  this  perfectly  plain  by  a  fervid  show  of  sympathy 
expressed  through  the  medium  of  moist  eyes  and  indig- 
nant glances  toward  the  closed  door  of  Leverson's  dress- 
ing room,  through  which  a  bar  or  two  from  "  El  Capitaine  " 
was  still  audible. 

It  was  the  one  thing  needed  to  complete  poor  Margaret's 
humiliation.  Finding  the  girl  perfectly  useless,  she  dis- 
missed her  with  an  unaccustomed  sharpness  which  hurt 
Alice's  feelings  without  being  any  relief  to  her  own. 

Once  alone,  it  came  upon  her  in  a  great  wave  of  feel- 
ing how  miserably  petty,  how  contemptible,  it  all  was. 
She  fought  against  it  through  sheer  fear  of  admitting  it, 
even  to  herself,  as  she  had  fought  against  it  scores  of  times 
before. 

But  to-night  the  voice  of  revolt  refused  to  be  silenced. 
It  seemed  to  her  as  if  every  one  of  the  scores  of  costly 
trifles,  which  littered  the  walls  and  furniture  of  the  beauti- 
ful room,  was  pointing  a  malicious  forefinger  at  her  in 
sneering  reminder  that  it  had  been  bought  with  Leverson 
money  and  must  be  loyal  to  the  breed.  She  too  had  been 
bought  with  Leverson  money,  but  they  naturally  looked 
down  upon  her ;  her  loyalty  had  been  questioned ! 

By  a  great  effort  she  shut  them  out,  forcing  her  memory 
to  recall  the  scene  of  that  afternoon  in  very  self-defence ; 
the  picture  of  a  misery  so  much  more  tangible  to  sight  and 
touch  than  hers,  and  yet,  as  it  seemed  to  her,  so  much 
easier  to  bear. 

For  the  moment,  at  least,  she  conquered.  No  one  who 
had  seen  her  descend  the  wide  oak  staircase  half  an  hour 
later  would  have  imagined  that  she  had  just  closed  one 
chapter  in  her  life  and  was  beginning  another. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


ANOTHER    FEAST 


It  was  Randal  Whitelaw  who  happened  to  be  crossing 
the  hall  as  Margaret  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  She 
met  him  with  a  murmured  apology  for  not  having  been  on 
hand  to  receive  him  before,  though  his  being  there  was 
distinctly  a  matter  of  business. 

Inwardly  she  felt  as  if  her  apologetic  attitude  toward 
the  Leverson  world  was  becoming  chronic  ;  as  if  she  even 
owed  it  some  amends  for  having  been  born  at  all;  out- 
wardly she  was  merely  courteous,  her  pride  keeping  her 
within  the  bounds  of  reason  and  common  sense. 

Whitelaw,  who  could  be  short  enough  in  his  dealings 
with  his  own  sex,  had  too  much  Southern  blood  in  his  veins 
to  lack  either  tact  or  delicacy  where  women  were  concerned, 
least  of  all  with  the  girl  to  whom  he  was  now  speaking. 
He  ignored  the  apology  itself  ;  indeed,  his  first  words  were 
an  assurance  that  no  apology  was  necessary. 

"  It's  rather  hard  on  you,  Mrs.  Leverson,"  he  began, 
smiling,  "  that  half  the  meetings  of  our  honorable  board  are 
held  nowadays  at  Elmhurst.  You  might  almost  as  well 
live  in  Brockton.  We  bring  such  an  odor  of  the  shop  along 
with  us,  and  our  conversation,  even  at  table,  is  so  sugges- 
tive of  oil  and  varnish.  Please  forgive  us  this  once  more  ; 
I've  reason  to  believe  it  won't  last  much  longer." 

"  That  is  the  least  I  can  do,  as  you  are  all  here  for 
Ashton's  convenience,"  she  said  with  an  answering  smile 
which  thanked  him    for    his   kindliness,  "  and   besides,  it 

74 


ANOTHER   FEAST  75 

means  my  getting  a  glimpse  of  Mr,  Doniphan,  which  is  a 
rarer  pleasure  than  it  ought  to  be." 

"  He's  just  arrived,"  Whitelaw  nodded  comprehensively, 
not  in  the  least  jealous  of  Mobray  Doniphan,  who  was  ten 
years  his  senior  and  looked  twenty.  "  I  suppose,"  he  went 
on,  "  we  should  have  gathered  just  the  same  if  Ashton  had 
called  the  meeting  in  the  heart  of  Africa.  I  remember 
once  he,  Doniphan,  and  I  were  down  at  Currituck  duck 
shooting,  when  a  telegram  came  from  Mclntyre  remind- 
ing us  there  was  a  Quarterly  Meeting  on  the  tenth.  Two 
of  us  supposed  of  course  we  were  booked  for  home,  but 
your  marvellous  husband  was  resourceful  as  usual.  We 
telegraphed  Mclntyre  to  bring  down  the  accounts,  notified 
the  minority  of  the  board,  held  the  meeting  in  Leverson's 
duck  boat,  passed  the  accounts,  and  declared  a  dividend. 
Didn't  we,  Mr.  Doniphan  ? " 

They  had  turned  and  entered  the  long  drawing-room, 
already  occupied  by  Leverson  himself  and  the  balance  of 
those  fortunate  persons  about  to  partake  of  the  Leverson 
manna.  To  one  of  these,  who  did  not  look  as  grateful  for 
the  privilege  as  he  should  have  done,  Whitelaw  had  ad- 
dressed that  last  remark  of  his. 

With  some  little  difficulty  Mobray  Doniphan  detached 
him!§elf  from  the  Colonel  and  came  toward  them,  his 
clean-shaven  face,  which  was  thin  almost  to  emaciation, 
lighting  up  wonderfully  as  he  took  the  girl's  hand  between 
his  own  bony  fingers  and  held  it  there  for  an  instant. 

He  would  have  impressed  a  stranger  as  an  odd  little 
man,  the  top  of  whose  large  head  reached  only  to  Mar- 
garet's eyes.  His  badly  cut  clothes  hung  on  rather  than 
fitted  his  slight  figure,  and  his  whole  personality  was  only 
redeemed  from  repulsive  ugliness  by  a  pair  of  brilliant, 
very  expressive  eyes. 

He  had  the  slight  stoop  of  the  habitual  reader  but  not 
the  pallor,  for  he  was  one  of  those  fortunate  human  beings 


76  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

who  are  able  to  choose  their  own  path  in  life ;  and  in  the 
face  of  that  distinctly  American  dogma  that  no  matter 
how  much  money  a  man  may  inherit  he  is  bound  to  spend 
his  life  in  trying  to  make  more,  he  had  chosen  the  life  of 
a  country  gentleman  and  a  student,  accomplishing  in  the 
former  capacity  as  well  as  in  the  latter  the  work  of  half 
a  dozen  men. 

Yet  a  time  had  come,  twelve  years  back,  when  he  had 
not  found  it  possible  to  continue  a  deeply  engrossed  in- 
tellectual life  and  maintain  an  active  sympathy  for  others 
in  the  world  outside.  When  the  choice  had  come,  he  had 
chosen  the  latter  without  any  blowing  of  trumpets.  The 
world  only  knew  that  his  reputation  as  a  pamphleteer 
was  not  what  it  had  been,  though  his  name  still  appeared 
and  carried  weight.  Brockton  meanwhile  had  learned  to 
know  him  better  without  suspecting  any  sacrifice. 

Mobray  Doniphan's  relationship  with  Margaret  Lever- 
son  was  a  much  closer  one  than  his  connection  with  the 
Gilbreeds,  as  Mr.  Faucon's  brother-in-law,  would  have 
accounted  for.  During  the  diverting  precocity  of  her 
tenth  year  he  had  taught  the  child  Latin  grammar  for  the 
same  reason  that  he  had  taught  her  to  play  chess, — because 
it  amused  him ;  when  she  was  eighteen,  he  had  suddenly 
waked  to  the  fact  that  she  had  a  mind  well  worth  cultivat- 
ing, but  shortly  afterwards  her  engagement  to  Leverson 
had  spoiled  everything  from  Mobray  Doniphan's  point  of 
view. 

This  evening,  as  he  stood  there  chatting  with  her  and 
the  attentive  Whitelaw,  he  was  recalling  again  that  day, 
something  over  two  years  ago,  when  she  had  told  him 
about  her  engagement ;  told  him  in  that  grave  manner  of 
hers  without  a  touch  of  girlish  embarrassment.  They 
had  been  reading  Xenophon,  —  the  girl  had  taken  to 
Greek  with  a  quickness  of  perception  which  had  secretly 
delighted   even   Mobray  Doniphan,  the  fastidious,  —  and 


ANOTHER  FEAST  'jy 

had  reached  the  middle  of  the  first  book  when  she  im- 
parted this,  to  him,  unpalatable  piece  of  news.  He  had 
made  no  comment,  —  only  put  his  bookmark  between  the 
pages  when  they  stopped  that  afternoon,  and,  as  he  had 
quite  expected,  they  never  got  much  farther. 

With  his  usual  shrewdness  he  made  a  pretty  accurate 
guess  what  had  happened  since,  though  all  the  time  he 
was  talking  delightful  nonsense  to  her  as  they  followed 
Leverson  and  Miss  Laurie  into  the  dining  room.  White- 
law  and  the  Colonel  straggled  in  behind  in  company  with 
Shaver  and  Wormly,  the  literary  hangers-on,  both  some- 
what awed  in  the  presence  of  the  genuine  star,  and  there- 
fore, for  once,  decently  silent. 

Doniphan,  who,  as  above  noted,  could  talk  very  well 
about  one  thing  and  think  about  another,  was  presently 
seated  at  Margaret's  right,  and  opposite  Miss  Laurie,  with 
whom  he  began  to  exchange  compliments  and  gossip 
which,  in  the  estimation  of  the  hangers-on,  belied  his 
reputation. 

Miss  Laurie,  speaking  generally,  was  of  the  Dresden 
china  order  of  old  ladies,  so  delicate  as  to  seem  almost 
fragile,  as  she  sat  there  in  a  cloud  of  soft  silk  and  lace, 
her  ^white  hair  and  pink-and-white  complexion  making 
more  noticeable  a  pair  of  sharp  black  eyes. 

No  one  to  have  seen  her  just  then  could  have  imagined 
that  she  came  of  a  race  of  men  who,  no  farther  back  than 
her  own  middle  age,  had  worked  with  their  hands.  No 
one  to  have  heard  her  voice,  as  she  went  on  chatting  with 
Doniphan  in  one  of  her  most  gracious  moods,  would  have 
believed  her  anything  but  a  born  lady.  No  other  country 
in  the  world  could  have  produced  such  a  woman  with  such 
a  past. 

But  she  was  not  as  clever  as  Doniphan  at  keeping  up 
by-play.  Whitelaw,  who  was  watching  her  with  something 
more  than  his  usual  careless  interest,  noticed  that  the  sharp 


78  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

black  eyes  wandered  at  times  from  Doniphan  to  where 
Leverson  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  in  rather  loud  talk 
with  the  Colonel.  Leverson  was  bragging  of  the  way  he 
had  handled  the  Firefly  in  a  bit  of  a  breeze  that  morn- 
ing off  North  Point  in  the  Chesapeake,  and  bragging  was 
a  healthy  sign  with  Leverson. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  Miss  Laurie  worshipped  her 
nephew,  but  that  was  no  news  to  Whitelaw,  and  would 
not  have  repaid  such  a  careful  study  as  he  was  just  then 
giving  the  piece  of  Dresden  china  on  his  right. 

"  I  suppose  this  new  protege  of  Ashton's  is  booked  to 
put  poor  Mclntyre's  nose  out  of  joint,"  the  lawyer  re- 
marked to  this  costly  article,  as  soon  as  Mobray  Doniphan 
had  relaxed  his  conversational  hold  upon  it  and  had  turned 
to  Margaret.  "  Without  wishing  in  the  least  to  detract 
from  Ashton's  high  estimate  of  him,  I  suppose  I  may  be 
allowed  to  commiserate  Mclntyre." 

If  he  had  wanted  to  attract  those  sharp  eyes  in  his  di- 
rection, Whitelaw  had  made  no  mistake  in  his  selection  of 
a  topic.  They  were  already  turned  upon  him,  sparkling 
under  the  soft  lamplight  which  fell  full  upon  her  face,  like 
two  pieces  of  cut  jet. 

"  Have  you  seen  him  yet }  "  she  asked  in  the  terse,  crisp 
way  peculiar  to  her. 

"  Unfortunately,  no.  He'd  gone  when  I  got  here  this 
afternoon,  but  I  understand  from  Ashton  he's  to  be  at  the 
meeting  this  evening.  I  suppose  he  wants  to  break  him 
in  on  something  besides  literature.  It  seems  he's  a  para- 
gon of  all-round  usefulness.  I  know  something  about  him 
from  having  seen  him  in  Bald's  Harrisburg  office.  A 
clever  fellow  enough,  from  all  I  hear." 

"  Entirely  too  clever,  from  all  I've  seen." 

Miss  Laurie  made  this  comment  with  something  more 
than  her  usual  crispness.  She  laid  down  her  spoon  with- 
out  having   finished  her  soup,     Morgan  was   filling  her 


ANOTHER   FEAST  79 

glass  with  some  of  that  mild  old  sherry  which  was  Miss 
Laurie's  favorite  tipple.  Whitelaw  waited  for  him  to 
move  on  before  he  remarked  with  some  amusement :  — 

"  You  forget  you  haven't  told  me  yet  what  you  have 
seen." 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  you  haven't  told  me  what  you've 
heard." 

Whitelaw  laughed  outright.  It  was  so  characteristic  of 
her  that  he  was  to  get  nothing  out  of  her  without  paying 
for  it.  That  he  already  possessed  Leverson's  account  of 
Thallon's  advent  that  afternoon  was  quite  beside  the 
question ;  it  only  enhanced  his  appreciation  of  Miss 
Laurie's  caution. 

"  I'm  rather  afraid  we've  neither  of  us  anything  of  much 
value  to  exchange,"  he  went  on  in  the  same  light  tone; 
and  then  added,  —  with  one  of  his  sudden  changes  of 
manner,  — "but  I'm  in  a  position  where  I  imagine  I  might 
add  considerably  to  my  knowledge  of  this  young  gentle- 
man's past  history,  and  on  Ashton's  account  I  may  take 
the  trouble  to  do  it." 

At  five  and  seventy  hands  which  have  finished  their 
work  in  the  world  are  apt  to  tremble  somewhat,  whether 
the^work  itself  may  be  looked  back  upon  with  unmixed 
satisfaction  or  not. 

If  Whitelaw  noticed  that  Miss  Laurie  spilled  a  drop  or 
two  of  her  fine  old  wine  as  she  set  down  her  glass,  he  was 
only  sorry  because  these  Uttle  accidents  are  embarrassing 
to  old  people. 

She  was  not  looking  at  him  just  then,  but  had  let  her 
eyes  wander  back  to  Leverson's  face  with  that  soft  look  in 
them  which  came  there  for  no  one  else.  With  him  Miss 
Laurie's  native  shrewdness  had,  from  the  beginning  of 
things,  somehow  deserted  her.  With  him  she  had  made 
no  bargain.  She  had  labored  for  him,  striven  for  him, 
schemed    for   him,  and  had   asked    nothing  from   him    in 


8o  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

return.  Oddly  enough  she  had  got  more  out  of  him  than 
might  have  been  expected.  There  was  no  question  but 
what  Leverson  loved  her  more  than  he  loved  any  other 
human  being  save  himself.  His  Aunt  Catherine  had 
always  seemed  to  Leverson  the  one  woman  with  a  definite 
and  worthy  object  in  life. 

She  had  lived  up  to  this  estimate  of  her  by  loving  him 
well  enough  to  ruin  him  a  dozen  times  over ;  perhaps  she 
was  realizing  that  now  as  she  never  had  before. 

Her  snappy  black  eyes  came  back  to  her  left-hand 
neighbor,  not  directly,  but  by  a  short  detour,  which  carried 
them  across  the  long,  wainscoted  dining  room,  with  its  dark 
red  walls  and  ceiling  of  panelled  oak ;  across  the  square 
table  brilliant  with  spotless  damask  and  the  sparkle  of 
shining  glass  and  silver.  On  the  whole,  it  was  a  very  fair 
inheritance,  this  which  John  Leverson  had  earned  by 
thirty  years  of  hard  labor,  and  which  had  come  to  Ashton 
without  the  turning  of  a  hand.  Miss  Laurie,  with  a 
fastidiousness  which  had  come  to  her  from  Heaven  knows 
where,  had  loved  the  money,  not  for  what  it  was,  but 
for  what  it  brought.  She  had  had  small  sympathy  with 
the  rougher,  coarser  man  who  had  made  it,  while  every  fibre 
of  her  being  had  gone  out  to  the  handsome,  wilful  boy 
whose  birth  had  cost  Ann  Leverson  her  life  in  that  far- 
away time  of  poverty  and  struggle. 

It  is  quite  possible  that  Whitelaw,  versed  as  he  was  in 
the  Leverson  history,  had  followed  closely  enough  the 
trend  of  Miss  Laurie's  thoughts,  though  as  he  met  her  eyes 
again,  he  only  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly,  as  if  in  polite 
inquiry. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  it,"  she  said  abruptly,  as  if  answering  the 
look.     "  It  can  do  no  good." 

"  Pardon  me  !  I  thought  from  the  way  you  spoke  just 
now,  you  agreed  with  me  it  might." 

"  Not  at  all !     I  said  nothing  against  the  boy,  except  his 


ANOTHER  FEAST  8 I 

having  too  much  brains  be  considered  a  blemish.  You  say 
yourself  he  comes  well  recommended,  so  he's  probably  not 
a  defaulter.  My  disliking  him  personally  is  not  a  matter 
of  great  importance.  As  I  understand  it,  Ashton's  not 
engaged  him  to  do  up  my  back  hair." 

Whitelaw  laughed. 

"  Nevertheless,  you  do  dislike  him,  and  as  a  rule.  Miss 
Laurie,  you  have  some  reason  for  your  dislikes." 

"There  you're  entirely  wrong.  There  are  even  times 
when  I  dislike  jt?«,  though  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why." 

"  I  know  !     It's  because  I'm  so  persistent." 

"  Perhaps.  I  shall  certainly  dislike  you  if  you  persist 
in  your  present  purpose.  I  hardly  think  it  necessary  to 
institute  an  inquisition  into  the  past  history  of  one's  ser- 
vants beyond  the  usual  recommendations.  Very  frequently 
in  this  disordered  household  we  have  servants  whom  I 
personally  dislike.  I  don't  worry  myself  about  them.  I'm 
merely  glad  to  see  them  go,  which  they  usually  do  at  the 
end  of  the  month.  This  boy  struck  me  as  rather  too  cool 
for  his  place,  —  even  to  the  verge  of  impertinence.  There 
are  times  when  Ashton,  with  his  light-hearted  kindliness,  is 
too  familiar  with  his  dependents,  and  so  he  didn't  notice  it, 
but  he  will  all  in  good  time  —  until  then,  let  it  rest." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  Whitelaw  answered  much  amused, 
and  implying  a  promise  he  had  no  intention  of  keeping  for 
the  sake  of  winding  up  a  topic,  which  the  first  pause  in  the 
general  chatter  might  make  common  property.  "  By  the 
way,  speaking  of  servants,  I  was  sorry  to  hear  about  poor 
Jane  Kirk.  Ashton  tells  me  she's  had  another  one  of  her 
attacks  .? " 

Here  Margaret,  at  the  moment  released  by  Doniphan 
from  his  conversational  grip,  glanced  across  the  table  as 
Whitelaw  put  the  question  to  Miss  Laurie. 

"Well,  Ashton  exaggerated,  as  usual,  where  Jane's 
miseries  are  concerned,"  the  old  lady  hastened  to  reassure 

G 


82  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

him.  **  We  all  know  Jane's  weak  points.  She  can't  bear 
new  faces,  and  of  course  the  dear  fellow  was  reckless 
enough  to  call  her  into  the  study  with  this  latest  waif-and- 
stray  jumping  up  from  the  sofa  like  a  jack-in-the-box. 
Of  course,  she  had  a  relapse,  but  she  was  all  right  in  an 
hour,  though  I  shall  take  care  that  no  one  but  Celeste  and 
I  see  her  for  a  day  or  two.     All  she  wants  is  quiet." 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it  was  not  more  serious,"  Marga- 
ret said,  addressing  Miss  Laurie.  "  AHce  only  told  me  of 
it  a  few  moments  before  dinner,  and  I  had  no  chance  to 
ask  questions." 

"  She  naturally  couldn't  have  told  you  before,  as  you 
were  not  here,"  Miss  Laurie  remarked  with  an  iciness  of 
manner  calculated  to  remind  the  lady  of  the  house  how 
completely  she  had  failed  to  qualify  in  the  domestic  field. 
It  was  quite  as  much  to  prevent  Margaret's  answer,  as 
with  any  intention  of  coming  to  her  rescue,  that  Mobray 
Doniphan  swung  himself  into  the  breach,  while  he  made 
another  of  his  clear  deductions  as  to  the  relationship 
between  these  two  ladies. 

As  he  ran  on  easily  through  a  range  of  subjects  light  as 
gossamer,  he  was  saying  to  himself  that  even  this  girl,  who 
had  managed  the  cramped  Gilbreed  income  with  no  small 
skill,  might  well  be  nonplussed  at  the  problems  which 
confronted  her  on  an  income  of  eighty  thousand  a  year 
coupled  with  an  expenditure  of  a  hundred  thousand ;  if 
for  no  other  reason,  that  she  had  no  control  over  either. 

It  was  common  gossip  that  Ashton  dismissed  three- 
quarters  of  the  Elmhurst  servants  on  an  average  of  once  a 
month.  Morgan,  who  stood  like  a  rock  between  Elmhurst 
and  absolute  chaos,  was  also  dismissed  frequently;  but 
never  went,  because  his  ability  at  taking  the  other  servants' 
places  saved  Leverson  any  inconvenience,  and  because  he 
loved  Leverson  well  enough  to  do  it. 

There  was  no  question  about  it,  Leverson  was  capable 


ANOTHER  FEAST  83 

of  inspiring  affection.  A  great  many  people  upon  whom 
he  trampled  ruthlessly  with  those  clumsy  feet  of  his 
picked  themselves  up  in  the  dust,  and  crawled  after  him  so 
as  to  be  on  hand  when  wanted.  But  the  girl  seated  next 
him  on  his  left  had  not  crawled  yet,  —  Mobray  Doniphan 
could  see  that  clearly  enough  by  merely  glancing  at  her, 
and  (although  he  could  foresee  no  possible  good  which 
could  accrue  to  her  in  the  hopeless  struggle)  he  felt  a 
sense  of  keen  elation  that  she  had  not. 

This  partisanship  on  Doniphan's  part  did  not  prevent 
his  being  delightfully  chatty  with  Leverson.  At  such 
seasons,  when  he  felt  he  had  more  reasons  than  usual  to 
despise  him,  he  was  apt  to  draw  Leverson  out  about  his 
literary  work.  It  was  a  relief  to  his  feelings  to  see 
Whitelaw  grinning  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table. 

"  They  tell  me  you've  got  to  the  end  of  the  -second 
chapter  —  going  so  well  you've  had  to  hire  an  extra  ste- 
nographer," he  was  saying  pleasantly,  as  Morgan  dis- 
tributed coffee  and  cigars.  "  Don't  forget,  though,  you 
can  carry  mental  application  too  far  —  never  work  more 
than  five  hours  on  a  stretch,  and  have  some  mercy  on  your 
amanuensis." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  worry  about  him,"  Leverson  laughed. 
"  I  haven't  even  set  him  to  work  yet.  You  see  Shaver 
and  Wormly  here  are  going  to  desert  me  to-morrow,  — 
called  away  to  the  city,  don't  you  know,  —  which  leaves 
me  a  trifle  short-handed.  I  dare  say  I  shall  be  able  to 
make  something  of  this  new  fellow.  He's  coming  to- 
night, so  you  can  judge  for  yourself." 

The  hangers-on,  who  had  been  warmly  seconding  the 
small  man's  efforts,  here  exchanged  glances  and  relapsed 
into  pained  silence.  They  had  had  no  intention  of  being 
called  away  so  soon,  and  infinitely  preferred  Elmhurst  to 
Philadelphia,  where  their  board  cost  them  seven  dollars  a 
week.     Doniphan,  who  easily  grasped  the  situation,  would 


84  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

not  have  been  at  all  surprised  if  he  had  caught  Shaver 
putting  some  extra  cigars  in  his  pocket  against  a  rainy 
day. 

Nothing  of  the  kind  happened,  however,  at  least,  before 
dinner  came  to  an  end,  and  Ashton  solemnly  conducted 
the  four  trustees  of  the  vast  Leverson  interests  into  his 
private  study. 

For  the  rest,  —  Miss  Laurie  disappeared  upstairs ;  Mar- 
garet wandered  out  into  the  garden,  where  the  damp  night 
air  was  creeping  up  from  the  river ;  Shaver  and  Wormly 
sought  consolation  in  the  billiard  room ;  and  Morgan  busied 
himself  over  the  deserted  table.  Even  he  only  lingered 
there  to  lock  up  the  wine  and  cigars. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A  MERE   MATTER  OF   BUSINESS 

"If  you'll  allow  me,  I'll  take  one  of  these  'Regalias,'" 
Doniphan  remarked  as  he  helped  himself  to  his  second 
cigar  from  a  box  on  Leverson's  writing-table.  "  I'm  told 
we've  something  before  us  to-night  rather  more  important 
than  the  usual  cut-and-dried  formulas  of  a  Quarterly  Meet- 
ing, and  I,  for  one,  always  think  better  with  a  piece  of  good 
tobacco  between  my  teeth  —  eh.  Colonel?" 

The  Colonel,  who,  as  a  connection  by  marriage,  had 
already  helped  himself  out  of  the  same  box  without  any 
formality,  grinned  amiably  and  sank  into  the  nearest  com- 
fortable chair. 

Two  lesser  lights  in  the  Leverson  financial  world  had 
risen  respectfully  on  the  entrance  of  the  four  gentlemen. 
Mclntyre  and  Thallon  had  reached  Elmhurst  by  appoint- 
ment half  an  hour  before,  and  spent  the  interval  in  listen- 
ing tfi  the  sounds  of  feasting  which  reached  them  faintly 
from  the  next  room,  the  older  clerk  glaring  savagely  at  the 
newcomer,  the  latter  in  blissful  unconsciousness  of  his 
rival's  presence. 

Leverson,  on  his  entrance,  had  taken  no  notice  of 
Mclntyre,  and  had  merely  glanced  at  Thallon  with  lan- 
guid curiosity,  as  if  he  were  some  peculiar  species  of 
animal  suitable  for  a  private  collection,  just  sent  in  on 
approbation. 

The  object  of  this  attention,  considering  his  employer's 
intimacy  of  that  afternoon,  may  have  felt  some  natural 
disappointment  at  its  lack  of  warmth,  but  if   he  did  he 

8S 


86  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

utterly  failed  to  show  it.  Leverson,  who  rarely  extended 
the  small  courtesies  of  life  to  his  inferiors,  had  neither 
asked  him  to  be  reseated  nor  introduced  him  to  a  soul. 
The  first  omission  Thallon  rectified  himself,  while  the 
Colonel,  upon  whom  awkwardness  of  this  kind  grated 
disagreeably,  rectified  the  second  by  pleasantly  chatting 
with  him  as  if  he  had  known  him  half  a  lifetime. 

Whitelaw  watched  these  two  in  amused  silence,  while 
Doniphan  ensconced  himself  beside  Mclntyre  —  a  shabby 
little  man  whom  no  one  would  have  recognized  as  the  fifth 
Director  of  the  great  Leverson  Corporation,  with  the  Cast- 
ing Vote  in  its  august  councils ;  the  Casting  Vote  was 
always  kept  shabby  on  purpose. 

There  was  a  certain  congruity  between  the  room  in 
which  these  six  men  had  congregated  and  its  owner  — 
owner  likewise  of  the  Casting  Vote,  and  of  all  things  visible 
and  invisible  in  the  Leverson  world,  but  of  nothing  more 
typically  Leverson  than  the  space  enclosed  within  these 
four  walls. 

It  was  a  room  which  had  something  of  a  library  about 
it,  without  containing  a  dozen  books  of  any  literary  value ; 
something  of  the  office,  without  containing  any  business 
papers  save  those  which  Mclntyre  had  just  brought  with 
him,  and  a  great  deal  of  the  lumber  room,  without  con- 
taining anything  beyond  its  furniture  for  which  anybody 
would  have  given  a  cent.  No  —  there  we  do  it  wrong  ; 
there  was  a  steel  engraving  of  a  horse-race  on  one  wall, 
with  a  lithograph  of  a  lady  in  pink  tights  opposite,  which 
doubtless  would  have  found  eager  bidders  at  a  forced  sale. 

A  confused  mass  of  periodicals,  largely  of  a  sporting 
character,  which,  together  with  newspapers  and  scraps  of 
blotted  manuscript,  littered  the  table  and  even  a  portion  of 
the  floor,  may  have  been  intended  to  convey  an  atmosphere 
of  literary  toil;  an  effect,  however,  somewhat  marred 
by  an  empty  gun-rack  in  one  corner,  a  decoration  of  fish- 


A   MERE   MATTER  OF   BUSINESS  8/ 

ing  tackle  over  the  mantel,  upon  which  rested  an  unfin- 
ished model  of  a  yacht,  eked  out  at  either  end  by  cigar 
boxes  in  various  stages  of  emptiness. 

Leverson,  who  hated  nothing  more  than  a  Directors' 
Meeting,  was  trying  to  get  Whitelaw  interested  in  the 
model  by  way  of  a  respite,  but  his  attorney  brought  him 
back  to  the  cares  of  life  with  kindly  firmness. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  the  Permanent  Chairman  wants  to 
call  this  meeting  to  order,"  he  began  pleasantly,  pulUng 
Leverson  back  into  his  swivel  chair  and  jerking  his  own  to 
within  nudging  distance  of  the  Permanent  Chairman's  ribs. 

"  I  call  the  meeting  to  order,"  that  functionary  repeated 
with  his  eyes  on  the  model. 

"  It  not  being  a  regular  Quarterly  Meeting,  the  reading 
of  the  minutes  of  the  last  meeting  might,  I  should  say,  be 
omitted,"  Whitelaw  went  on. 

"  Oh,  for  Heaven's  sake  don't  give  us  that  drivel !  "  Lever- 
son put  in  with  sudden  attention.  "  Here,  Mclntyre ; 
you  enter  it  on  record  that  it  was  all  read  and  approved." 

"  If  I'm  to  sign  the  thing  as  Secretary  of  this  board,  I 
should  like  to  have  it  a  trifle  more  regular  than  that,"  the 
Colonel  remarked,  smiling.  "  Why  not  say  *  reading  dis- 
pensed with' — that's  as  short  and  has  the  advantage  of 
bein^  true." 

This  love  of  truth  on  the  Colonel's  part  seemed  to  de- 
Hght  Doniphan.  He  relinquished  a  volume  of  Leverson's 
poems  which  he  had  found  on  a  side  table  to  laugh  at  the 
pleasantry.  It  seemed  to  him  even  funnier  than  the 
poems. 

"  Having  disposed  of  that  point,"  Whitelaw  went  on 
calmly,  "  it  strikes  me  it  would  be  well,  in  the  interests  of 
those  not  at  the  last  special  meeting,  for  the  Colonel  to 
give  some  account  of  a  rather  delicate  negotiation  which 
he  has  been  carrying  on  with  parties  representing  other 
concerns  in  our  own  line  of  business." 


88  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  In  short,  'The  Combine,'  "  Leverson  put  in  tersely. 

"  It  is  moved,  seconded,  and  carried,"  Whitelaw  con- 
tinued, speaking  for  the  Chair  (which  at  that  moment  was 
busy  relighting  its  cigar),  "that  Colonel  Gilbreed  be  re- 
quested to  make  this  report  in  writing." 

"  Have  you  got  that  down  ? "  Doniphan  asked  of  the 
industrious  Mclntyre  who  was  busily  writing. 

The  Casting  Vote  tried  hard  to  divide  his  attention  be- 
tween this  last  remark  and  a  pad  of  manila  paper  on 
his  knee.  He  paused  abruptly,  looked  up  from  his  work 
reproachfully,  moistened  the  end  of  his  pencil,  his  lips 
moving  painfully.  Doniphan  could  see  them  spelling  out 
—  r-e-q-u-e-s-t-e-d. 

"  I  have  it  in  shorthand,  Mr.  Doniphan,"  Thallon  said 
with  the  calmness  of  a  tried  reporter. 

"Of  course  he  has,"  Leverson  snorted  contemptuously. 
"  For  God's  sake,  Mclntyre,  hand  your  papers  over  to  Mr. 
Thallon.  He  hasn't  been  here  an  hour  yet,  and  he  knows 
more  of  your  business  than  you've  learned  in  two  years." 

The  Centre  of  all  things,  the  Judge  of  all  things,  was 
lolling  comfortably  in  its  swivel  chair  as  it  emitted  this 
decree.  Its  evening  clothes  fitted  it  to  a  nicety ;  its  shirt 
bosom  had  a  beautiful  curve  in  it,  suggestive  of  a  bellying 
sail;  about  its  sacred  person  there  rose  a  blue  cloud  of 
smoke  like  some  appropriate  incense.  Thallon,  not  quite 
certain  whether  this  eminently  just  decision  had  turned 
him  into  a  Casting  Vote  or  not,  was,  nevertheless,  satisfied 
that  the  honor  was  merely  a  question  of  time.  He  had 
certainly  accomplished  something  in  his  first  six  hours' 
acquaintance  with  Ashton  Leverson ;  the  use  of  the  pre- 
fix before  his  own  name  had  not  escaped  him ;  coming  on 
top  of  Leverson's  late  reception  of  him,  it  meant  a  good 
deal.  He  modestly  took  the  papers  which  were  shoved 
across  the  table  at  him  by  the  now  almost  tearful  Mclntyre, 
the  gratified  smile  lurking  about  the  corners  of  his  mouth 


A  MERE  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS  89 

not  being  lost  on  Doniphan.  At  that  moment  the  wicked 
old  man  took  one  of  his  violent  dislikes  to  this  paragon 
of  usefulness. 

"  You'll  find  my  written  report  somewhere  among  that 
stuff,"  the  Colonel  was  saying  affably  to  the  new  favorite. 

Thallon  rose  and  handed  him  the  desired  document 
without  speaking,  Leverson  making  a  mental  note  that 
here  was  a  man  who  .  could  do  a  thing  without  talking 
about  it,  while  even  Whitelaw  observed  with  a  sensation 
akin  to  admiration  how  perfectly  familiar  he  seemed  al- 
ready, not  only  with  the  name  of  every  man  present,  but 
with  his  proper  place  on  the  Leverson  chess-board;  de- 
cidedly a  fellow  who  might  be  very  useful  —  or  very 
dangerous. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  read  the  whole  of  this  thing,"  the 
Colonel  remarked,  slowly  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  doc- 
ument comprising  thirty  or  forty  type-written  pages.  "  It's 
written,  of  course,  to  be  spread  upon  the  record,  but  I  can 
give  you  the  gist  of  the  matter  in  two  or  three  dozen  words. 
Banks,  the  man  who  has  got  the  options  on  one  or  two  of 
the  Western  car  works,  and  Foster,  who  has  been  working 
New  England,  have  got  their  share  of  the  goods  ready  for 
delivery.  They  met  our  man,  Higgins,  in  Harrisburg  last 
week,  and  either  through  buying  controlling  interests  in 
the  stocks,  or  in  out-and-out  options  on  the  properties,  he 
could  account  for  all  but  three  of  the  Pennsylvania  plants. 
Now  mark  this  clearly,  gentlemen,  for  this  is  where,  in  my 
humble  opinion,  the  fun  comes  in ;  and  if  you  don't  pat 
me  on  the  back  when  I've  finished,  why,  I've  overestimated 
my  value  to  this  concern  —  that's  all.  Of  these  three 
plants,  one  at  Pittsburg  is  a  cramped  concern,  with  some- 
thing like  fifty  thousand  dollars  capital ;  the  second  —  at 
Spring  Valley  —  is  an  investment  of  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand,  and  a  very  poor  investment  at  that. 
The  third,  and  the  only  one  of  any  importance  outside  of 


90  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

The  Combine  to-day,  is  the  three-raillion-dollar  plant  of  the 
Leverson  Car  Company." 

The  Colonel,  one  of  the  best  stump  speakers  in  the 
state  of  Pennsylvania,  here  came  to  one  of  his  impressive 
pauses.  Doniphan,  who  sat  with  his  legs  lightly  crossed, 
blowing  out  little  rings  of  smoke  which  made  halos  just 
above  Leverson's  head,  was  the  only  perfectly  cool  man 
in  the  room.  Even  the  imperturbable  Whitelaw  had  that 
peculiar  glitter  of  the  eyes  of  a  significance  Doniphan 
knew  only  too  well.  He  had  seen  the  same  look  in  those 
of  a  Jew  pedler  in  the  throes  of  a  bargain,  the  successful 
consummation  of  which  meant  a  profit  of  three  hundred 
per  cent. 

Whitelaw  was  the  first  to  break  a  silence  which  had 
lasted  long  enough  to  be  distinctly  noticeable. 

"To  a  certain  extent,  of  course,  we  were  prepared  for 
this,"  he  began  slowly.  "  Leverson  and  I  especially,  as  I 
have  consulted  freely  with  the  Colonel  whenever  the  coun- 
sel of  the  Company  might  be  expected  to  give  an  opinion. 
But  I  want  to  say  here,  that  I  had  no  conception  he  had 
carried  the  negotiation  to  such  a  delicate  point.  There  is 
no  question  but  that  his  management  of  this  vital  matter 
has  been  masterly,  but  I  trust  he  won't  misunderstand  me 
if  I  express  a  hope  that  he  has  not  made  the  point  too  fine. 
To  put  the  thing  tersely.  Colonel,  have  you  got  a  definite 
offer .? " 

"  One,  I  think,  which  can  hardly  fail  to  meet  the  ap- 
proval of  every  gentleman  present,"  the  Colonel  said, 
tapping  his  little  roll  of  manuscript  with  a  large  forefinger 
as  if  he  were  punctuating  his  own  weighty  words,  "  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  and  within  anything  like  reason,  we 
have  the  incorporators  of  this  new  enterprise  completely  at 
our  mercy.  They've  simply  got  to  have  the  Leverson  plant 
or  make  a  fizzle  of  their  Eastern  business ;  in  the  West,  of 
course,  they  can't  control  as  yet,  though  they  will  in  time. 


A  MERE  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS  9 1 

but  here  every  cent  they  pay  us  over  and  above  intrinsic 
value,  they  will  get  back  ten  times  over  in  dealing  with  the 
smaller  fry." 

"One  moment — I  want  to  grasp  your  point  a  little 
more  clearly,"  Whitelaw  here  put  in,  raising  his  hand 
to  stay  the  flow  of  the  Colonel's  eloquence.  "  If  we're  the 
only  concern  of  any  size  outside  The  Combine,  how  can  we 
hold  the  whip-hand  ?  Why,  in  the  name  of  reason,  isn't 
the  boot  on  the  other  leg.-*" 

"  Because,  if  we  stay  out,  we're  big  enough  to  keep  up 
some  kind  of  an  opposition.  It  might  very  likely  be  a 
losing  fight,  but,  while  we're  making  it,  they  can't  market 
their  stock.  Six  months  delay  in  that,  and  they're  wrecked, 
—  comprenez  ? " 

The  Colonel  was  simply  in  his  element.  All  this  re- 
minded him  of  his  joint  debate  with  Henderson  \^en  he 
was  running  for  the  legislature  ten  years  before.  He 
had  made  a  success  of  that,  and  he  was  likely  to  make 
a  greater  success  of  this. 

He  went  on  with  even  increased  ardor. 

"  Now,  quite  outside  of  a  certain  little  increment  which 
has  got  to  come  to  us  by  the  market  standing  of  the 
nev*  stock,  —  and  figuring  that  stock  as  merely  at  par, — 
I  calculate  a  clear  profit  to  our  concern  of  a  good  deal  over 
one  hundred  per  cent ;  that  is  to  say,  we  get  two  shares  of 
the  new  stock  for  one  of  the  Leverson,  and  a  cash  bonus 
of  one  million  dollars,  or  thirty-three  thirty-three  per  share ; 
and  what's  more,  Whitelaw,  I've  got  the  blamed  thing  down 
in  writing." 

His  answer  was  a  long  low  whistle  which  came  from  the 
direction  of  the  swivel  chair.  Under  cover  of  the  babel  of 
voices  which  instantly  broke  out,  Leverson  shoved  a  scrap 
of  paper  over  to  his  now  smiling  attorney,  on  which  was 
written,  "  How  much  clean  cash  would  this  stand  me  in  } " 

Whitelaw  frowned   slightly,  thought  a   mpment,  wrote 


92 


THE   BEATEN   PATH 


down  six  expressive  figures  in  a  neat  horizontal  line,  and 
shoved  it  back  to  him.  Doniphan,  still  silently  burning 
incense  before  the  Leverson  shrine,  watched  with  interest 
the  clearing  away  of  the  clouds  from  about  the  Leverson 
face  as  the  Leverson  mind  slowly  absorbed  the  significance 
of  those  six  figures. 

"  I  don't  think  we  need  waste  time  talking  about  this 
thing  any  more,"  the  Chairman  remarked  with  a  charming 
lack  of  formality.  "The  only  thing  I've  got  against  you, 
Colonel,  is  that  you've  known  all  about  this  for  half  a  day 
without  taking  the  trouble  to  tell  me  about  it.  As  I'm 
practically  the  Leverson  Company,  I  should  think  my 
opinion  on  the  subject  might  carry  some  weight." 

"  If  I've  been  the  least  bit  formal,  my  dear  boy,  I  reckon 
you  can  find  a  reason  without  going  very  far,"  the  Colo- 
nel rejoined  in  his  pleasantest  manner.  "  To  begin  with,  I 
only  got  my  report  into  shape  in  my  Harrisburg  office  this 
afternoon,  since  which  I've  only  seen  you  at  the  dinner 
table  in  the  presence  of  a  couple  of  distinguished  represen- 
tatives of  the  press,  before  whom  a  discussion  of  this  matter 
would  have  been  unfortunate,  to  say  the  least.  And  now, 
I  should  Hke  to  call  the  attention  of  this  Board  (Mr. 
Thallon  will  be  pleased  to  take  a  note  of  this)  to  certain 
disadvantages  as  well  as  to  some  additional  advantages 
which  in  my  opinion  may  accrue  to  us  in  this  deal." 

"  Let's  have  the  disadvantages  first,"  Doniphan  sug- 
gested. 

"  Well,  to  begin,  then  ;  I  can't  get  you  more  than  three 
representatives  on  the  Board  of  the  New  Company, — 
three  out  of  thirteen,  —  which  means,  of  course,  we  have 
no  control." 

"  Is  that  in  just  proportion  to  the  amount  of  our  new 
stock  ?  "  Doniphan  asked. 

"  Exactly  so,"  nodded  the  Colonel. 

"  In  that  case  I  can  hardly  in  conscience  advise  Leverson 


A   MERE  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS  93 

to  close  on  this  thing,"  Whitelaw  said  slowly  ;  "  that  is,  if 
there  be  any  question  of  our  marketing  our  holdings  inside 
the  six  months  following  the  consummation  of  this  deal." 

"  That's  just  the  point  I'm  coming  to,"  the  Colonel 
rejoined  cheerfully.  "  We  can  market  our  holdings  inside 
of  three  months,  or  my  reputation's  gone." 

Doniphan  here  shook  his  head  sadly  as  if  not  entirely 
satisfied  even  with  this  security.  The  Colonel,  however, 
failed  to  notice  this  jarring  note.  "And  that  isn't  all, 
either,"  he  continued  with  increased  animation,  —  though 
lowering  his  voice  until  it  had  nearly  the  effect  of  a  confi- 
dential whisper,  —  "I  don't  expect  any  of  you  to  believe 
this  until  you  have  seen  my  figures  and  talked  with  Hig- 
gins,  but,  strictly  between  ourselves,  I  have  proof  positive 
that  we  can  market  this  new  stock,  inside  of  three  months 
from  its  appearance  on  the  exchanges,  at  one  hundred  and 
forty-five,  and  no  questions  asked.  The  other  thing  seems 
almost  small  alongside  of  this,  doesn't  it }  " 

If,  in  the  heat  of  passion,  Leverson  had  ever  stigmatized 
his  celebrated  father-in-law  as  an  old  fool,  he  inwardly  took 
it  all  back  now. 

"  What  are  the  other  disadvantages .? "  Doniphan  asked 
polijely. 

"  Why,  there's  the  question  of  expense,"  the  Colonel 
answered,  relapsing  into  pensiveness. 

"I  was  just  coming  to  that,"  said  Whitelaw.  "How 
much  does  Higgins  get  out  of  this  ?  " 

"  Not  a  cent  out  of  us,"  the  Colonel  answered  with  par- 
donable pride.  "  Higgins  and  I  are,  as  you  know,  toler- 
ably close,  and  it's  understood  I  can  do  him  certain  favors 
which  will  make  this  worth  his  while ;  that  was  where  I 
found  myself  in  a  position  to  save  your  pockets.  No  —  no 
thanks.  I  never  play  the  philanthropist.  You  all  know, 
or  ought  to  know,  that  I've  got  the  interests  of  this  Com- 
pany at  heart;  I  think  I've  proved  that;  but,  of  course, 


94  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

no  one  expects  that  I'm  going  ahead  with  this  thing  in 
order  to  realize  on  my  small  holdings." 

"  No  one  was  foolish  enough  to  expect  that  of  you," 
Doniphan  said  with  evident  conviction. 

"Come!  out  with  it;  how  much  do  you  want,  Colonel?" 
Whitelaw  asked,  grinning  pleasantly  at  Doniphan. 

"  Why,  I  should  say  an  assessment  of  two-fifty  per  share 
on  the  Leverson  stock  to  be  paid  out  of  the  first  cash  re- 
ceived from  the  other  company  would  be  fair,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 
the  Colonel  asked  with  renewed  diffidence. 

"  How  much  would  that  come  to  ? "  Leverson  demanded, 
his  eyes  fixed  on  'Whitelaw,  as  if  he  were  asking  him  to 
repeat  his  multiplication  table  and  was  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout  for  errors. 

"Seventy-five  thousand  dollars." 

"  Oh,  come  !  Look  here  !  "  Leverson  snorted.  "  I'll 
be  — "  he  paused  abruptly,  conscious  that  Whitelaw  was 
pulling  his  sleeve. 

"You  see  I  was  in  a  rather  favorable  position  to  pull 
this  thing  through,"  the  Colonel  went  on  in  dreamy  un- 
consciousness of  these  interruptions.  "  Besides  Higgins, 
those  other  fellows  will  want  a  little  help  from  me  before 
they  get  into  running  order,  so  I  don't  suppose  they'd  have 
made  quite  such  favorable  terms  with  anybody  else.  Then, 
too,  if  I'm  not  very  much  mistaken,  I'm  the  only  man  liv- 
ing who  can  successfully  engineer  the  sale  of  this  new 
stock ;  Higgins  and  the  others  rather  look  to  me,  I  reckon, 
to  advertise  it." 

"  In  other  words,  you've  —  "  Leverson  began,  when  the 
weight  of  Whitelaw's  restraining  hand  again  guided  him 
into  still  waters. 

"  You  couldn't  make  it  an  even  two  dollars  ? "  the  lawyer 
queried. 

"I  really  don't  see  how  I  could,"  the  Colonel  said 
deprecatingly. 


A  MERE  MATTER  OF  BUSINESS  95 

"  Only  one  more  question,"  Doniphan  here  put  in.  "  Of 
course  it  betrays  my  ignorance  of  what  one  might  call 
expansive  finance,  but  I've  got  to  get  some  answer  to  it  if 
I'm  to  have  this  scheme  perfectly  clear  in  my  own  mind. 
I  want  to  know  who  is  expected  to  buy  this  new  stock.  If 
the  rest  of  the  plants  brought  into  the  New  Company  are 
anything  like  this,  it  can't  earn  one-half  of  one  per  cent  on 
its  stock,  whatever  it  pays." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  the  Colonel  answered,  looking  at  his 
questioner  with  kindly  indulgence  for  this  irrelevancy, 
"the  public  buys  it." 

"Thank  you;  yes,  I  see,"  said  the  polite  Doniphan. 

"  I  think  we  may  as  well  put  the  question  whether  this 
thing  goes  through,"  Whitelaw  remarked,  frowning  slightly 
at  Doniphan's  interruption ;  "  that  is  to  say,  whether  as  a 
Board  we  accept  the  conditions  of  the  deal  and  direct  the 
Secretary  to  call  a  Stockholders'  Meeting  to  ratify.  As 
we  have  two-thirds  of  the  stock  in  the  Chair,  we  might 
begin  by  informally  asking  it  if  this  is  worth  while .'' " 

"  Make  it  two-twenty-five,"  Leverson  said,  addressing, 
though  he  did  not  look  at,  the  Colonel ;  "  make  it  two- 
twenty-five  and  I'll  call  it  done.  It  means  my  getting 
out  ^f  this  damned  town,  or  I  wouldn't  do  it  even  at 
that." 

"  Well,  it's  all  in  the  family,"  the  Colonel  said,  looking 
at  him  affectionately,  "  let  it  go  at  that." 

A  sigh  of  relief  went  round  the  room  and  the  meeting 
practically  came  to  an  end,  Leverson,  the  Colonel,  and 
Whitelaw  breaking  into  a  group  a  little  apart  on  the 
farther  side  of  the  room  where  they  stood  eagerly  talk- 
ing with  frequent  references  to  sheets  of  figures  and  one 
or  two  formidable  looking  documents  with  legal  seals. 

Doniphan,  who  had  not  been  urged  to  join  them,  re- 
mained seated  in  his  original  position  calmly  smoking, 
plunged  in  a  profound  silence.     Thallon  was  busy  writing 


96  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

out  his  notes,  watched  by  the  jealous  Mclntyre.  Presently 
the  Chairman  rapped  for  order. 

"  It's  merely  the  formal  vote,"  he  remarked  as  he  lit  a 
fresh  cigar.  "  Let's  hurry  up  and  get  through  with  it. 
It's  hot  enough  to  stifle  one  in  this  room.  Here,  Whitelaw, 
you've  got  it  written  out ;  how  does  it  read  ? " 

Doniphan  woke  up  with  a  start  as  he  heard  Whitelaw 
beginning,  "  It  is  hereby  Resolved  —  " 

The  little  man  here  straightened  himself  in  his  chair, 
tossed  his  cigar  stump  into  the  empty  grate,  and  had  risen 
to  his  feet  before  Whitelaw  got  to  the  words,  "approves 
the  preliminary  contract  entered  into  on  behalf  of  this 
Company  by  Colonel  Mortimer  Gilbreed,  under  powers 
vested  in  him  by  this  Board,  with  certain  parties  represent- 
ing the  ConsoHdated  Car  Company,  a  copy  of  which  pre- 
liminary contract  is  hereto  annexed." 

At  this  point  Doniphan  was  conscious  that  Whitelaw's 
eyes  were  upon  him  with  that  same  sinister  glitter  in  them, 
as  if  he  defied  him  to  find  a  flaw  in  the  web  of  words  he 
was  so  deftly  weaving.  He  even  caught  a  reflection  of  the 
look  in  those  of  the  urbane  Colonel  as  Whitelaw  went  on  :  — 

"  And  it  is  further  :  Resolved,  that  the  compensation  of 
the  said  Colonel  Mortimer  Gilbreed,  for  his  services  in 
negotiating  said  preliminary  contract  of  sale,  shall  be  fixed 
at  the  sum  of  sixty-seven  thousand  five  hundred  dollars, 
provided  said  sale  be  duly  ratified  and  consummated ;  said 
sum  to  be  paid  him  out  of  the  first  proceeds  of  said  sale." 

Doniphan's  sense  of  humor  here  came  to  his  relief  as  he 
caught  Leverson  trying  to  swallow  something  which  evi- 
dently hurt  him.  It  was  some  satisfaction  to  reflect  that 
even  the  triumphant  majority  was  not  entirely  united. 

Meanwhile  Whitelaw  was  going  on  with  :  — 

"  And  it  is  further :  Resolved,  that  the  secretary  of 
this  Company  be  hereby  authorized  and  directed  to  call  a 
Meeting  of  its  Stockholders  at  the  office  of  the  Company, 


A   MERE   MATTER  OF  BUSINESS  97 

Briscom  Block  in  the  City  of  Brockton,  for  2  p.m.  on 
Saturday  July  15th,  18 — ,  for  the  purpose  of  ratifying  or 
rejecting  said  preHminary  contract." 

"  These  Resolutions  are  before  the  Board,  gentlemen," 
the  Chair  announced,  obviously  pleased  at  this  opportunity 
of  saying  something. 

"  I  move  their  adoption,"  Whitelaw  said,  smiUng  pleas- 
antly at  Doniphan. 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  added  the  Colonel,  jauntily. 

"  The  Resolutions  are  moved  and  seconded,"  the  Chair 
resumed,  as  if  it  knew  this  part  of  the  business  by  heart. 
"  All  those  in  favor  of  them  may  signify  their  approval  by 
saying,  *  Aye.* " 

A  cheerful  chorus  of  ayes,  which  included  even  the  de- 
pressed Mclntyre,  was  the  instant  response. 

"  Contrary  minded,  *  No.'  " 

"I  vote  No,"  said  Mobray  Doniphan. 


CHAPTER  X 
MOBRAY  Doniphan's  carriage  is  kept  waiting 

As  unexpected  as  it  was  unpleasant,  an  embarrassed 
pause  followed  that  viva  voce  vote  of  the  minority,  though, 
naturally,  the  minority  failing  to  share  in  the  surprise, 
failed  likewise  to  share  in  the  embarrassment. 

The  Chairman,  whom  emotion  had  for  the  moment  ren- 
dered speechless,  even  forgot  to  declare  the  Resolutions 
carried,  an  omission  presently  rectified  by  Whitelaw  in  that 
politely  ironical  voice  of  his,  —  a  voice  of  which  the  Chair- 
man was  as  yet  utterly  incapable. 

"  Mr.  Doniphan  having  voted  in  the  negative,  the  Reso- 
lutions are  carried  by  a  vote  of  four  to  one,"  the  lawyer 
said,  glancing  at  Thallon  to  see  that  this  important  fact 
was  being  entered  on  the  minutes. 

"  I  wish  to  say  here,"  Leverson  broke  in,  recovering  the 
gift  of  speech  under  the  soothing  influence  of  his  attorney's 
words,  "  that  if  Mr.  Doniphan  finds  his  position  as  a  Di- 
rector of  this  Company  in  any  way  inconsistent  with  the 
extraordinary  position  he  has  seen  fit  to  assume,  the  way 
out  of  his  entanglement  is  not  very  far  to  seek." 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you  to  mention  it,"  Doniphan  nodded 
pleasantly,  "but  I  don't  feel  in  the  least  entangled." 

"  Really  !  "  Leverson  went  on,  his  voice  rising  slightly ; 
"  I  should  have  said  you  know  that  in  taking  ground  so 
diametrically  opposed  to  that  of  the  rest  of  the  Board, 
you  would  have  felt  at  least  some  discomfort.     If  it  had 

98 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING       99 

been  my  own  act,  I  should  have  regarded  it  as  a  virtual 
resignation." 

Although  this  was  not  in  the  least  true,  it  was  said  with 
perfect  sincerity.  Leverson  fell  back  into  his  swivel  chair, 
feeling  that  he  had  struck  a  blow  for  the  proprieties  and 
relieved  his  feelings  at  the  same  time. 

"I  don't  quite  follow  your  argument,"  Doniphan  returned 
pleasantly,  producing  a  pair  of  shabby  driving  gloves  from 
his  pocket  and  beginning  to  put  them  on.  "  I  should  have 
said  that  a  vote  on  any  question,  however  simple,  involved 
a  possible  difference  of  opinion,  and  that  the  time  for  ex- 
pressing an  opinion  was  before  one's  resignation,  not 
afterwards." 

"We're  only  too  anxious  to  have  you  express  it,  Mr. 
Doniphan,  at  any  time,"  the  Colonel  put  in  genially,  his 
guiding  principle  that  it  was  never  worth  while  to  quarrel 
with  a  man  like  Doniphan,  —  of  certain  income  and  uncer- 
tain vote,  —  uppermost  in  his  agile  mind. 

Doniphan  bowed. 

"  One  thing  I  should  especially  enjoy  knowing,"  the 
Boss  of  Henderson  County  continued,  "is  your  opposi- 
tion to  this  scheme  prompted  by  any  doubts  as  to  my  abil- 
ity to  carry  it  through  ?  I  noticed  just  now  you  did  not 
take  tfie  trouble  to  glance  over  a  little  correspondence  I've 
had  with  some  of  the  principal  parties  in  interest  con- 
nected with  this  deal, — an  oversight,  if  I  may  say  so, 
before  taking  the  serious  step  of  placing  yourself  in  an- 
tagonism in  some  of  your  oldest  friends.  I  have  no  hesi- 
tation in  saying,  Doniphan,  that  I  don't  want  you  left  out 
in  this  thing ;  it's  too  blamed  good ;  besides  which  I 
don't  mind  admitting  that  I  should  feel  personally  hurt  — 
yes,  hurt  —  if  you  had  any  doubts  as  to  making  my  words 
good." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  believe  that  if  any  living  man 
can  unload  stock  of  an  intrinsic  value  of  twenty-five  on  a 


100  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

confiding  public  at  one  hundred  and  forty,  you  are  the 
man,  Colonel,"  Doniphan  answered  as  he  snapped  the  but- 
ton of  his  second  glove. 

"  One  hundred  and  forty-five,"  the  Colonel  corrected, 
jealously  guarding  these  last  few  points  of  clear  profit ; 
"  I  don't  hedge  my  promise,  not  by  a  single  cent." 

"  I  really  beg  your  pardon  ;  make  it  one  hundred  and 
forty-five  by  all  means,"  Doniphan  acquiesced,  his  hand 
on  the  door-knob. 

"And  if  this  is  not  what  you  object  to,  may  I  ask  what 
are  your  grounds  of  opposition }  "  Whitelaw  asked,  his 
warning  eye  on  Leverson. 

"  Most  assuredly  !  To  put  it  rather  bluntly,  I  object  to 
playing  policy  with  the  stock  of  a  Company  of  which  I 
happen  to  be  a  Director,  or  with  any  other,  for  that  matter. 
I  shall  not  only  vote  against  it  as  a  Director,  but  after 
ceasing  to  be  a  Director,  I  shall  decline  putting  my  own 
stock  into  this  reorganization  or  to  participate  in  it  in  any 
way.  I  speak  thus  frankly  because  I  wish  to  make  my 
position  perfectly  plain." 

"You've  certainly  succeeded  in  doing  that,"  Leverson 
put  in  with  a  sneer,  though  he  had  flushed  hotly  at  the 
other's  words.  "  You  object  on  an  elevated  point  of 
morals.  I  congratulate  you  that,  as  a  bachelor  whose  other 
excellent  investments  make  him  quite  independent,  you 
can  afford  to  enjoy  the  luxury —  I  can't." 

"  Personally  I  could  hardly  afford  to  do  the  other  thing," 
Doniphan  said,  politely  ignoring  the  sneer,  "but  that  is 
a  matter  which  is  neither  here  nor  there.  I  am  no  more 
anxious  to  give  the  present  company  a  moral  lecture  than 
they  are  to  listen  to  it.  Such  as  they  are,  I  have  given 
you  my  reasons  for  taking  this  stand  against  a  practice 
which  is,  in  my  poor  opinion,  getting  to  be  altogether  too 
common  in  these  progressive  times  and  in  this  progressive 
country.     I  have  only  given  them  on  being  asked  to  do  so, 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING       lOI 

and  I  do  not  expect  for  a  moment  that  they  will  appeal 
to  anybody  else  as  being  at  all  sufficient.  That  they  are 
sufficient  for  me  is,  after  all,  the  only  point  of  any  impor- 
tance. As  for  my  resignation,  which  strikes  me  as  being 
next  in  order,  I  would  like  to  place  it  now  in  the  hands 
of  the  President  of  the  Company.  Leverson  is  so  far 
right :  I  am  out  of  harmony  with  the  rest  of  the  Board, 
and  likely  to  continue  so,  as  its  remaining  acts  can  only  be 
connected  with  the  winding  up  of  the  old  Leverson  Cor- 
poration. If  you  want  the  thing  in  writing,  I  can  give  it 
to  you  now." 

"  Not  at  all  necessary,"  Whitelaw  put  in  briskly  in  an- 
swer to  a  look  from  the  Chair.  "  Mr.  Thallon  can  enter 
it  on  the  minutes  that  Mr.  Doniphan's  resignation  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  President,  who,  as  Chairman, 
submitted  it  to  the  Board.  He  might  add  that  it  was 
accepted  with  regret." 

*'  Deep  regret,"  interpolated  the  Colonel. 

"Thank  you,  very  much,"  Doniphan  said,  grinning 
wickedly  as  he  turned  the  door-knob. 

"  One  moment  more  before  you  go,"  Leverson  said,  re- 
turning the  look.  "  As  a  person  rather  deeply  interested 
in  the.  property,  I'd  like  to  ask  you  what  you  propose  doing 
with  your  stock.  After  this  thing  once  gets  known,  you 
can  hardly  sell  it  in  the  open  market  without  realizing  an 
enormous  profit.  Are  we  to  understand  that  while  going 
down  on  the  minutes  of  this  meeting  as  objecting  to  this  sale, 
you  propose  realizing  to  the  full  the  pecuniary  advantage 
which  the  sale  gives  you  as  a  stockholder .-'  If  you  don't 
mind  my  mentioning  it,  your  heroic  position  looks  some- 
what less  heroic  viewed  in  this  Ught." 

"  I'm  very  glad  you  spoke  of  it,"  the  little  man  continued 
with  imperturbable  good  nature  in  the  face  of  the  insult. 
"  Except  you  oblige  me  to,  I  have  no  intention  of  selling 
my  holdings  in  the  open  market.     As  you  know,  my  four 


102  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

hundred  shares  represent  a  loan  of  twenty  thousand  dollars 
which  my  father  made  to  John  Leverson  some  fifteen  years 
ago,  when  he  first  bought  the  Leverson  Works.  When  soon 
after  John  Leverson's  death,  the  Company  was  first  incor- 
porated on  the  advice  of  Mr.  Whitelaw,  the  stock  issued 
represented  at  par  about  twice  the  capital  actually  invested 
in  the  business." 

"  It  was  earning  ten  per  cent  on  every  share,"  Whitelaw 
remarked  easily. 

"Just  so,"  Doniphan  nodded,  "and  at  the  time  it  did  not 
strike  me  as  very  material  whether  I  got  ten  per  cent  on 
the  Leverson  stock  representing  forty  thousand,  or  twenty 
per  cent  on  John  Leverson's  note  for  twenty  thousand.  It 
was  my  father's  understanding  with  him  that  he  was  to 
share  in  the  growing  profits  of  the  business,  and  as  the 
stock  has  never  sold  for  more  than  fifty  since,  I  could  not 
at  any  time  have  more  than  realized  the  original  investment. 
Now  that  in  these  days  we  have  got  down  to  six  per  cent, 
it  might  not,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  sell  for  as 
much." 

"  But,  as  I've  just  remarked,  we're  not  under  ordinary 
circumstances,"  Leverson  put  in  impatiently. 

"  No  one,  I  think,  knows  that  better  than  Mr.  Doniphan," 
Whitelaw  remarked  with  his  ambiguous  smile.  "  If  he  is 
anxious  to  avoid  the  ill-gotten  gains  which  seem  drifting  in 
our  direction,  I  don't  see  that  I  can  do  him  a  greater  favor 
than  offer  him  sixty,  cash  down,  for  his  four  hundred  shares. 
That's  a  flat  offer,  Mr.  Doniphan." 

"  I  make  it  seventy,"  the  Colonel  said,  his  eyes  snapping, 
"to  be  paid  out  of  my  commission,  as  soon  as  I  get  it." 

Leverson  looked  at  these  two,  his  loyal  supporters,  with 
profound  disgust.  They  had  both  held  themselves  so  close 
to  him  for  these  last  few  years,  to  their  own  great  advan- 
tage, and  this  was  how  they  repaid  him  —  by  trying  to 
outbid  him  in  a  race  for  certain  little  perquisites  peculiarly 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING        I03 

his  own.  But  they  would  find  he  was  not  so  easily 
beaten. 

"  I  make  it  seventy-five,"  he  growled  savagely,  the 
veins  on  his  forehead  standing  out  big  and  purple,  his 
handsome  eyes  on  Doniphan. 

The  last-named  gentleman  laughed  outright  —  the  very 
harshest  laugh  of  which  even  he  was  capable. 

"  Come !  I'll  put  you  out  of  your  misery,  Leverson,"  he 
said.  "  I'll  sell  the  stock  to  you  because  you  represent  your 
brother  in  a  way  no  one  else  can  possibly  do,  — John  Lever- 
son,  to  whom  the  loan  was  originally  made,  —  and  I'll  sell 
at  fifty,  not  a  cent  more  or  less.  If  you're  as  glad  to 
get  it  as  I  am  to  get  rid  of  it,  it  ought  to  make  you  happy. 
Let  me  know  when  you  want  them,  and  I'll  turn  in  the 
certificates.  And  now  I  really  must  be  off.  I'll  trouble 
you  to  ring  for  my  carriage,  but  don't  bother  to  see  me  out. 
I  want  to  speak  to  Margaret  before  I  go,  and  she  can  do 
the  honors.     Good  night,  gentlemen,  good  night." 

There  was  a  curious  note  of  varying  intensity  noticeable 
in  the  answers  to  Mobray  Doniphan's  parting  salutation. 
Every  man  in  the  room,  save  one,  thought  him  more  or 
less  cracked,  but  this  common  belief  was  mixed  with  con- 
siderations which  varied  as  much  as  the  individuals  that 
harbored  them. 

To  the  Colonel  Doniphan  was  not  only  mad  but  decidedly 
dangerous,  and  the  first  idea  which  came  to  him  after  the 
door  closed,  was  that  this  lunatic  might  possibly  spread  the 
confidential  information  he  had  just  obtained  before  a  gap- 
ing crowd  at  the  first  Brockton  corner  he  passed. 

To  Leverson  this  unexpected  outcome  of  the  late  un- 
pleasantness appealed  simply  as  something  irresistibly 
funny,  but  out  of  deference  to  Whitelaw's  restraining  eye, 
he  confined  himself  to  grinning  triumphantly  at  both  him 
and  the  Colonel  as  he  leaned  forward  to  touch  the  electric 
button  on  his  table.     He  could,  in  fact,  very  well  afford  to 


104  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

indulge  in  cynical  humor.  He  had  made  something  over 
thirty  thousand  dollars  within  the  last  fifteen  minutes,  for, 
crazy  or  not,  he  had  (oddly  enough)  no  doubt  that  Doni- 
phan, to  use  a  phrase  of  the  Colonel's,  would  "  deliver 
the  goods." 

He  rose  and  adjourned  the  meeting  mechanically,  after 
giving  Morgan,  who  answered  the  bell,  the  necessary  orders 
as  to  Doniphan's  carriage.  Then  everybody  began  talking 
at  once,  —  that  is,  of  course,  every  one  except  Thallon, 
who  was  busy  finishing  his  notes,  and  Mclntyre  who,  tak- 
ing up  his  shabby  hat,  departed  with  respectful  salutations 
which  no  one  paid  the  slightest  attention  to. 

"  In  the  name  of  common  sense,  what  do  you  suppose 
possessed  the  man  ? "  Leverson  asked,  suppressing  a  yawn. 

There  was  no  need  of  being  more  explicit.  Whitelaw 
perfectly  understood  the  reference,  though  for  answer  he 
merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smiled  his  ambiguous 
smile. 

"  No  need  to  inquire  too  closely,  my  dear  boy,"  the 
Colonel  put  in  lightly.  "  He's  chosen  to  make  you  a 
deucedly  handsome  present,  and  for  Heaven's  sake  take  it 
and  be  thankful.  I  won't  pretend  I  don't  envy  you,  as  it 
bars  me  out  of  something  which  was  good  enough  for  the 
likes  of  me,  though  not  quite  so  good;  but  I  wish  you  joy 
just  the  same.  You  were  born  with  the  traditional  silver 
spoon  in  your  mouth,  so  naturally  you  get  the  best  pick- 
ings. Truth  to  tell,  we're  none  of  us  in  a  position  to 
apply  for  a  commission  in  lunacy  to  sit  on  our  generous 
friend.  May  no  one  sit  on  him  so  long  as  he  continues 
to  dispense  his  favors  with  such  a  lavish  if  not  impartial 
hand.  In  the  meantime  we  will  abstain  from  criticism. 
Ashton  can  certainly  afford  to  if  we  can ;  eh,  Whitelaw  ?  " 

There  was  a  general  laugh,  and  the  company  broke  up 
in  the  best  of  spirits.  If  Thallon  did  not  join  in  it,  it  was 
doubtless  because  he  was  busy  doing   up  the  bundle   of 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING       105 

papers  and  documents  confided  to  his  keeping  by  the  dis- 
placed Mclntyre.  He  was  given  to  understand  he  was 
to  accompany  Whitelaw  to  the  Company's  office  where 
they  were  to  be  filed  for  safe-keeping. 

The  Colonel  and  Leverson  accompanied  them  to  the 
door,  the  latter  giving  the  new  secretary  instructions  about 
being  on  hand  in  the  morning,  when  they  were  to  com- 
mence their  literary  labors.  As  soon  as  they  were  gone, 
the  Colonel  ran  his  arm  affectionately  through  Leverson's 
as  they  turned  back  into  the  study,  where  the  stale  tobacco 
smoke  hung  in  heavy  clouds,  as  if  over  some  sanguinary 
field  of  battle  —  a  field  which  had  just  witnessed  so  signal 
a  triumph  of  the  Leverson  arms. 

No  one  knew  better  than  the  Colonel  that  he  was,  for 
the  moment,  out  of  his  son-in-law's  good  books,  and,  it  may 
be  added,  no  one  knew  better  how  to  get  back  into  them. 
Like  most  stupid  people,  Leverson  never  completely  trusted 
anybody,  though  his  own  limitations  obHged  him  to  almost 
entirely  depend  upon  other  people's  labor.  His  only 
remedy  for  what  he  considered  a  lack  of  loyalty  in  his 
dependents  was  dismissal,  but  though  this  might  be  effica- 
cious with  his  domestics,  and  even  his  clerks,  it  could  not 
be  n^de  to  apply  quite  so  nicely  to  his  father-in-law.  He 
had  fully  made  up  his  mind  when  the  Colonel  had  begun 
bidding  against  him  for  the  Doniphan  stock,  that  he  would 
give  him  a  broad  hint  that  there  were  other  places  than 
Elmhurst  where  a  rising  politician  might  spend  the  sum- 
mer to  advantage ;  but  his  unexpected  victory  in  that 
encounter  had  somewhat  softened  his  judgment,  and  this 
softening  process  was  accelerated  as  the  Colonel  now  pro- 
ceeded to  dilate  on  the  brilliant  prospects  which  stretched 
before  them  both,  —  prospects  which  could  only  become 
assured  facts  through  that  delicacy  of  finesse  of  which  he, 
the  Colonel,  was  alone  capable. 

On  leaving  the  house  Doniphan  had  turned  down  one 


I06  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

of  the  broad  gravel  walks  which  led  toward  the  rear  gar- 
den, where  he  had  seen  Margaret  Leverson  disappear 
after  dinner.  The  moon  had  not  yet  risen,  but  the  bright 
starlight  enabled  him  to  presently  make  out  her  white 
dress  against  the  intensely  dark  background  of  the  clipped 
yew  hedges. 

He  gave  one  of  his  little  grunts  of  dissatisfaction  at  the 
simultaneous  perception  of  an  accompanying  figure  also  in 
white,  though  the  garments  of  this  second  personage  were 
unmistakably  masculine,  enclosing  a  pair  of  long,  though 
symmetrical  legs  and  a  superstructure  of  equally  graceful 
proportions. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Doniphan,"  came  in  a  bright,  cheery 
voice  from  out  the  shadow  of  the  yews,  as  the  intruder 
advanced  upon  it. 

"  Dear  me  ;  it's  Reggie,"  Doniphan  grunted,  not  over- 
graciously.     "  How  in  the  world  did  you  get  here  .■*  " 

"Well,  the  feat  was  not  remarkably  difficult,"  the  young 
fellow  laughed  good-humoredly.  "  I  reached  Brockton  on 
the  eight-thirty,  took  a  cab  at  the  station,  and  drove  out  to 
Elmhurst.  I've  met  men  who  have  accomplished  more  in 
the  way  of  travel  without  joining  a  geographical  society. 
Like  the  model  brother  I  am,  I  came  out  to  see  Madge 
first  and  foremost.  I  can't  realize  it's  only  three  months 
since  I  left;  I  suppose  because  I've  crammed  so  much  into 
the  time.     I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  away  a  year." 

"  Humph  !  I  should  have  said  you'd  just  gone,"  Doni- 
phan remarked  ungraciously,  though  he  smiled  as  he  said 
it,  for  much  as  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of  him  now  he  was 
really  fond  of  the  boy.  "  By  the  way,  our  business  meet- 
ing's over,  so  you'll  find  your  father  at  liberty  if  you  want 
to  embrace  him." 

"  Thanks,  very  much,  but  I  saw  him  in  Harrisburg  this 
afternoon.  We  had  a  most  delightful  interview,  but  I 
don't  feel  justified  in  renewing  it  now.     One  should  always 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING      10/ 

be  reasonable,  you  know,  in  their  drafts  on  the  family 
affections.  Madge  here  was  just  saying  something  to 
that  effect  when  you  came  up ;  weren't  you,  Madge  ?  "  he 
added  with  a  laugh. 

"  To  my  certain  knowledge  she's  given  you  a  good  deal 
more  of  it  than  you  deserve,  young  man,"  Doniphan  re- 
torted, drawing  the  girl's  hand  through  his  arm  and  begin- 
ning to  pace  slowly  down  the  hedge-bordered  path,  a 
movement  which  helped  to  cover  Margaret's  embarrassed 
silence.  "  If  any  one's  charity  ever  began  at  home,  yours 
has,  Madge  Leverson." 

"  I'm  sometimes  very  much  afraid  it  has  ended  there,  " 
the  girl  said  with  an  unaccustomed  touch  of  sadness  in  her 
voice,  though  she  smiled  at  him  as  she  said  it ;  a  word 
of  praise  meant  so  much  in  the  mouth  of  Mobray  Doni- 
phan, and  it  was,  of  all  times,  most  welcome  to  her  then. 

"  Well,  we  won't  argue  that  point,  especially  as  I'm 
about  to  give  you  an  opportunity  to  broaden  your  field  of 
usefulness,"  he  went  on  with  one  of  his  contented  little 
grunts.  "  I  want  to  know  if  you  can  give  me  an  hour  or  two 
a  day  on  my  proof-reading,  —  *  The  Italiana, '  you  know. 
I've  got  to  make  comparisons  pretty  well  through  the  last 
seven  volumes  of  Tiraboschi  to  be  quite  certain  I'm  right 
on  Tialf  a  dozen  disputed  points ;  a  beastly  job,  and  not  a 
man  in  Brockton  with  education  enough  to  be  of  the 
slightest  use  except  it  is  Faucon,  and  he's  too  busy  making 
converts  to  rituaUsm  to  think  of  anything  else.  I'm 
literally  swamped  with  the  thing;  kept  it  three  months 
longer  than  I  had  any  right  to  from  my  long-suffering 
publishers  —  but  I  can't  have  it  go  as  it  is.  Come,  and  be 
made  a  martyr  of  in  a  noble  cause." 

There  was  a  hardly  perceptible  pause  which  covered  a 
mere  shadow  of  hesitation  in  the  girl's  manner  before  she 
answered  him,  but  when  it  came,  her  answer  left  nothing 
to  be  desired. 


I08  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  I  '11  come  to-morrow  afternoon  if  that  will  do,"  she 
said.  "  It  will  do  me  quite  as  much  good  as  it  can 
possibly  do  you,  and  I  believe  you  know  it." 

Doniphan  laughed  with  genuine  satisfaction.  The  fact 
that  the  girl  was  eating  her  heart  out  amid  the  glitter  of  the 
Leverson  riches  had  been  patent  enough  to  him  earlier 
in  the  evening,  and  his  perception  of  it  had  close  connection 
with  this  exaggerated  description  of  his  literary  straits. 
He  was  wondering  whether  she  would  have  added  any- 
thing to  what  she  had  said  if  Reggie  had  not  been  present. 
He  had  wanted  to  give  her  some  hint  of  that  impending 
break  in  her  Ufe  to  which  the  developments  of  that  even- 
ing had  so  clearly  pointed;  but  in  the  presence  of  this 
irresponsible  young  man,  it  seemed  wise  to  leave  that  sub- 
ject unbroached. 

Once  clear  of  the  Leverson  Works,  it  required  no  partic- 
ular astuteness  to  perceive  that  it  would  not  take  Ashton 
Leverson  long  to  shake  the  dust  of  Brockton  from  his 
patent-leather  shoes.  What  that  would  mean  for  Margaret, 
no  one  knew  better  than  the  crusty  old  bachelor  who  was 
just  then  sauntering  down  the  Elmhurst  alleys  with  the 
girl's  hand  resting  lightly  on  his  arm.  Of  course  such  a 
parting  of  sacred  ties  was  but  the  common  lot  of  woman,  but 
it  was  a  fate  which  usually  had  its  compensations.  What 
compensations  were  likely  to  be  hers .-' 

The  man  in  him  rose  at  the  thought.  Unconsciously 
he  held  the  arm  upon  which  her  hand  rested  a  trifle  more 
firmly.  He  entirely  forgot  for  the  moment  that  she  was 
at  least  three  inches  taller  than  he  was ;  he  felt  quite  big 
enough  to  protect  her,  —  and  in  the  best  sense  of  the  word 
he  was. 

"  Do  you  go  back  to  your  old  quarters  at  the  Burney 
House .-' "  he  demanded  abruptly  of  his  male  companion 
as  they  turned  back  toward  the  front  of  the  house  and  his 
waiting  carriage. 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING       IO9 

"Yes,  if  I'm  not  dispossessed  for  non-payment  of  rent," 
the  young  fellow  laughed ;  "  and  as  Lindley's  the  agent, 
I  think  my  chances  are  fairly  good.  I've  conquered 
the  dear  man  by  the  strength  of  one  of  his  weak- 
nesses." 

"  I  didn't  know  Lindley  had  any  weaknesses,"  Doniphan 
said,  thinking  of  drink  and  tobacco. 

"  One,  anyway.  It's  poetry.  The  Doctor  caught  it  last 
summer  when  Ikey  Hubble  went  through  Brockton  ped- 
dling books.  Somehow  or  other  he  got  stuck  with  a  copy 
of  Arnold's  '  Light  of  Asia,'  which  he  worked  off  on  the 
Doctor  at  ten  per  cent  premium  to  the  dear  man's  undoing. 
I  don't  think  Uncle  Cuthbert  half  liked  it.  You  know  he 
and  Lindley  are  not  altogether  harmonious.  Lindley's  so 
Low  Church." 

"  I  should  have  said  the  *  Light  of  Asia '  was  distinctly 
ritualistic,"  Doniphan  said  gravely ;  "  but  what  has  that  to 
do  with  your  paying  rent  ? " 

"  Why,  everything.  Seeing  how  the  land  lay,  I  got  a 
copy  myself,  and  when  he  came  down  to  collect,  I  always 
had  a  passage  that  required  explanation.  It  interrupted 
my  work  more  or  less,  but  as  an  investment  '  Guatama 
Boodha  '  paid  well.  I  think  I  owed  six  months  when  I 
went*' away,  and  we'd  only  got  to  the  seventh  page.  By 
the  bye,  come  down  and  see  me  some  afternoon.  I've 
brought  over  a  lot  of  stuff  from  the  other  side  which  you'll 
find  it  worth  your  while  to  look  at  if  you  ever  have  such 
a  thing  as  an  idle  hour." 

"  Have  you  sold  any  of  your  work  ? "  Doniphan  asked 
with  a  grunt. 

"  Not  lately.  You  know  I  can't  paint  for  the  market ; 
that  kind  of  thing's  death  to  any  true  feeling  for  art. 
However,  my  portrait  of  that  Romeyn  girl  I  began  in  New 
York  last  winter  ought  to  put  me  in  funds  if  I  ever  get 
time  to  finish  it." 


no  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  Is  the  Romeyn  girl  to  be  sent  on  by  express  for  the 
purpose  ?  "  Doniphan  asked  dryly. 

"  Well,  hardly ;  her  time's  too  valuable,  but  I  shall  be 
there  for  a  couple  of  weeks  in  the  autumn,  so  there's  a 
fighting  chance." 

"  A  couple  of  weeks  in  the  autumn,"  Doniphan  repeated 
absently,  "and  in  the  meantime  we  have,  as  you  say,  a 
fighting  chance.     Well,  I  really  must  be  off.     Good  night ! " 

He  took  Margaret's  hand  an  instant  in  his  large,  thin 
one  as  his  man  turned  the  wheel  of  the  waiting  carriage, 
sprang  in  with  the  elastic  step  of  a  boy  of  twenty,  and  a 
moment  later  was  whirling  down  the  long  drive  which  led 
to  the  Elmhurst  gates. 

"What  a  lucky  old  duffer  he  is ! "  Reggie  remarked,  as 
the  brother  and  sister  stood  watching  the  departing  vehicle 
in  the  bright  starlight  until  it  disappeared  behind  the  clus- 
tering elms  below  the  lawn.  "  He's  never  had  to  work  for 
the  market,  —  not  much  !  " 

"  But  he  has  worked,"  she  said  suggestively ;  "  worked 
the  way  you  have  got  to  work  if  you  are  ever  to  be  honest 
or  manly.  About  this  horrible  new  load  of  debt  you  have 
brought  home  with  you,  I  can't  help  you.  I  simply  haven't 
got  the  money,  but  this  debt  to  Dr.  Lindley  has  got  to  be 
paid  at  once." 

"  I  don't  owe  it  to  him ;  it's  the  Burney  heirs,"  Reggie 
corrected  her. 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  he  has  never  let  them  lose  a 
penny  of  it.  He  has  taken  it  out  of  his  own  pocket  be- 
cause he  knows  it's  hard  for  you  to  pay  and  because  he's 
fond  of  you." 

"  If  that's  so,  he's  a  devilish  good  fellow  and  I'm  very 
much  obliged  to  him." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  say  so  !  "  she  cried  indig- 
nantly ;  "  you  with  your  abiHty  and  education,  hopelessly 
lazy  at  two  and  twenty,  —  and  you  sneer  at  Mr.  Doniphan 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN'S  CARRIAGE  IS  KEPT  WAITING       1 1 1 

who  has   made  a  noble  name  for  himself  by  sheer  hard 
work." 

"  Oh,  bother !  I  don't  call  that  work, — to  do  just  what 
you  want  to  do.  According  to  that,  Leverson's  the  hardest 
worked  man  in  the  universe,"  Reggie  returned  with  his 
usual  delightful  candor.  "  Come,  it's  getting  late.  Let's 
go  in." 


CHAPTER    XI 

ONE-SIDED   CONFIDENCE 

"There  she  is  again!"  Thallon  exclaimed,  halting 
abruptly  as,  at  a  turn  of  the  carriage  drive,  Whitelaw  and 
he  came  within  sight  of  the  Elmhurst  gates. 

"You  mean  Jane  Kirk,"  the  lawyer  answered  promptly, 
though  he  was  looking  at  Thallon,  not  at  the  couple  of 
shadowy  figures  at  some  Httle  distance  under  the  overarch- 
ing trees.  "  Evidently  taking  her  evening  stroll,  though 
well  guarded,  as  usual.  I  take  it  the  other  woman's  Celeste, 
Miss  Laurie's  maid.  Poor  old  Jane  !  I  understand  from 
Leverson  that  you  were  the  innocent  cause  of  this  last  at- 
tack. A  rather  rough  specimen  to  do  duty  as  the  family 
skeleton  in  the  Leverson  closet." 

"Then  there  is  a  skeleton,"  the  other  said  with  gay  indif- 
ference, as  he  resumed  his  swinging  walk.  "  I  thought 
that  kind  of  thing  was  confined  to  novels,  and  even  in  them 
to  families  of  ancient  lineage  and  a  habitation  more  or  less 
in  ruins.  One  does  not  connect  the  idea  with  a  nineteenth- 
century  villa  containing  the  usual  modern  improvements." 

"  Why,  frankly,  the  idea  is  as  new  to  me  as  it  can  be  to 
you  —  perhaps  more  so.  Of  course,  having  eyes,  I  could 
hardly  fail  to  notice  that  there  was  a  certain  family  sen- 
sitiveness about  the  old  woman's  aflfliction.  It  comes  out 
principally  in  Miss  Laurie,  for  one  could  hardly  call  Lev- 
erson sensitive  about  anything  except  his  own  achievements. 
Perhaps,  even  from  Miss  Laurie's  standpoint,  we  could 
hardly  call  Jane  a  skeleton,  though  Heaven  knows  she's 

112 


ONE-SIDED  CONFIDENCE  II3 

thin  enough.  I  believe  I  used  the  expression  for  the  first 
time  just  now.  If  I'm  not  very  much  mistaken,  the  same 
phrase  had  occurred  to  you  before.  " 

"  Possibly !  At  least  I  noticed  the  quality  you  refer  to  in 
Miss  Laurie  when  she  made  herappearance  in  Mr.  Leverson's 
study  this  afternoon.  Do  we  take  the  electric  cars  in,  or 
do  you  prefer  to  walk?" 

"  Quite  the  same  to  me,  though  as  it's  not  over  a  mile 
and  a  half  and  the  night  young,  I  should  suggest  walking." 

They  turned  out  of  the  iron  gates  and  into  the  long  ave- 
nue lined  on  either  side  at  wide  intervals  with  its  beautiful 
modern  country  houses,  embowered,  for  the  most  part,  in 
clustering  foliage.  The  night  air  was  cool,  the  night  itself 
beautiful,  with  the  beauty  of  early  spring.  They  were  in 
the  comparatively  new  residence  quarter  of  Brockton,  the 
product  of  its  forty  years  of  successful  manufacturing, 

Thallon  felt,  somehow,  in  close  touch  with  it.  The  sen- 
sation of  being  a  homeless  wanderer  —  so  strong  upon  him 
that  morning  at  the  Leverson  Works  —  had  entirely  left 
him.  He  certainly,  of  all  men,  had  reason  to  feel  satisfied 
with  his  day's  work,  though  he  was  not  quite  certain  that 
his  day's  work  was  as  yet  quite  over. 

ThQ  lawyer's  manner  was  even  more  than  friendly,  — 
one  might  almost  have  called  it  ingratiating,  as  he  chatted 
on  unreservedly  with  his  companion.  Ingratiating  frank- 
ness was,  at  times,  Whitelaw's  strongest  card,  and  he  was 
playing  it  now  with  apparent  recklessness.  His  doing  so 
with  this  newly  fledged  protege  of  Leverson's  was,  if  the 
latter  had  only  known  it,  the  greatest  compliment  he  could 
have  paid  him.  Whitelaw  was  not  in  the  habit  of  wasting 
his  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

In  brains  they  were  very  equally  matched,  as  Whitelaw 
was  perfectly  well  aware,  or  he  would  have  taken  no  such 
trouble  as  he  was  taking  to  draw  the  other  man  out.  As 
a  reward  for  this  condescension  he  had,  as  yet,  made  small 


114  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

progress  in  the  younger  man's  confidence,  much  less  even 
than  had  Dr.  Lindley  with  his  perfectly  transparent  curi- 
osity and  straightforward  questions.  Thallon  made  no  fur- 
ther reference  to  skeletons,  dropping  back  instead  on  the 
events  of  the  evening,  which  offered  a  field  for  comment 
large  enough  for  a  special  correspondent. 

"  It  seems  the  Gilbreed  connection  is  not  altogether  un- 
profitable from  a  financial  point  of  view,"  he  was  saying  in 
answer  to  some  remark  of  Whitelaw's  about  the  Colonel. 
"  From  what  I  knew  of  him  in  Harrisburg,  I'd  been  led  to 
suppose  that  in  things  of  that  kind  he  was  rather  visionary 
and  unstable." 

"  So  he  is,"  Whitelaw  returned.  "  Personally,  I  wouldn't 
have  given  a  brass  farthing  for  what  he  had  to  say  about 
holding  the  winning  cards,  but  I  did  take  the  very  substan- 
tial written  proofs  which  he  had  to  offer ;  especially  as  they 
tallied  with  certain  information  I'd  gleaned  from  other 
sources  as  to  Higgins's  status  in  the  deal.  If  he's  seen  fit 
to  employ  Gilbreed  in  this  thing,  it's  because  he  knows  he 
can  use  him  to  advantage.  I  believe  the  Colonel  is  abso- 
lutely certain  of  the  Senatorship,  and  that's  a  title  which 
has  a  salable  quality.  If  I  had  Higgins's  money,  I  shouldn't 
care  to  use  the  Colonel  in  that  way,  but  then,  of  course, 
Higgins  is  not  a  gentleman,  whereas  Gilbreed  has  got  a 
family  behind  him.     That's  the  reason  I'm  sorry  for  him." 

"  Then  you  agree  with  Mr.  Leverson  that  maintaining 
something  like  a  decent  tone  in  business  affairs  is  merely 
a  matter  of  being  able  to  afford  it.''  "  Thallon  asked,  much 
surprised  at  Whitelaw's  being  sorry  for  anybody. 

"  It's  unquestionably  true.  No  one  supposes  for  a  mo- 
ment that  if  the  Colonel  enjoyed  a  comfortable  income, 
he  would  spend  his  time  in  dabbling  in  the  dirty  water 
of  politics.  He's  a  man  of  really  great  gifts;  a  superb 
organizer,  of  no  mean  powers  of  eloquence,  and,  as  I've 
said,  of  good  traditions.     If  he'd  had  an  independence,  he 


ONE-SIDED  CONFIDENCE  II 5 

could  have  reached  the  Senate  in  even  less  time  than  this, 
and  reached  it  by  a  clean,  straight  road.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose he  would  have  liked  that  better  ?  Of  course  he  would  ! 
He  couldn't  afford  it,  —  that's  all." 

"  The  same  theory  hardly  applies  to  Mr.  Leverson." 

"  Quite  as  much ;  though,  the  conditions  being  different, 
Leverson  is  not  in  the  same  boat.  There's  a  distinction, 
not  at'all  fine,  between  profiting  quite  indirectly  by  certain 
manipulations  and  taking  an  active  part  in  them.  All 
Leverson  and  the  rest  of  us  are  called  upon  to  do,  is  to 
realize  on  our  stock  when  the  market  is  got  into  the  right 
conditions.  We  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  in  getting  it 
there.  Mind,  I  don't  say  this  gives  us  any  right  to  take 
any  high  moral  ground ;  none  of  us  have  taken  it,  but  it 
does  keep  us  out  of  the  mud.  Leverson  himself  is  a  case 
in  point.  It's  a  matter  of  life  and  death  with  him  to  get 
away  from  Brockton  where,  at  present,  he  has  the  bulk  of 
his  fortune  invested ;  yet  you  couldn't  hire  him  for  love 
or  money  to  correspond  directly  with  Higgins  about  the 
deal.  Now  that's  the  result  solely  of  his  having  lived  most 
of  his  life  among  gentlemen  ;  it  hasn't  made  him  one,  but 
he's  imbibed  some  of  their  prejudices." 

Thallon  laughed.  He  was  perfectly  conscious  of  the 
bad  taste  of  the  remark,  having  himself  invited  it.  He 
could  hardly  ignore  it,  but  he  shifted  the  inquiry. 

"  And  where  does  Mr.  Doniphan  come  in  ? "  he  asked. 

"Why,  he  fairly  clinches  the  argument.  As  the  only 
man  in  the  room  who  could  afford  to  snap  his  fingers  at 
what  he  considered  a  shady  transaction,  he  promptly  pro- 
ceeded to  snap  them.  I  was  rather  glad  Leverson  reminded 
him  of  the  fact.  He  had  no  reason  to  grin  over  it,  though 
that's  a  small  matter.  To  sum  up,  as  we  lawyers  say,  my 
theory  holds  water  all  through.  The  completely  indepen- 
dent man  washes  his  hands  of  the  whole  affair,  —  most  of 
us  take  our  little  profits  humbly  and  say  nothing,  while  one 


Il6  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

or  two,  desperately  poor,  do  the  dirty  work.  No!  —  this 
is  not  a  world  in  which  to  throw  stones.  It  may  not  be  a 
beautiful  system,  but  you  gain  nothing  by  shutting  your 
eyes  to  it.  Gentlemen  are  born,  not  made,  but  they  only 
remain  such  as  long  as  they're  blessed  with  a  gentleman's 
income.  I've  seen  the  best  blood  in  Maryland  go  to  pieces 
for  lack  of  one.  My  ancestors  came  over  with  the  Calverts, 
but  I've  come  devihsh  near  going  to  pieces  myself  for  the 
same  reason.     Perhaps  you  know  what  I  mean." 

Thallon  nodded,  glancing  up  at  the  elder  man's  clear- 
cut  face,  apparently  so  easily  readable  in  the  bright 
starlight.  Despite  himself  he  felt  more  or  less  under  its 
fascination. 

"  I  don't  quite  see  your  object  in  putting  off  the  ratifica- 
tion of  this  thing  for  three  months,"  he  said  presently  with 
some  abruptness.  "  If  you're  so  cock-sure  of  the  thing,  I 
should  think  the  sooner  it  was  done  the  better." 

"  Leverson  asked  the  same  question,"  the  other  returned 
with  that  evasive  drawing  down  of  the  corners  of  the 
mouth  which  might  mean  almost  anything.  "  You  have  no 
idea  of  the  intricacy  of  these  stock-jobbing  deals.  Hitches 
may  occur  at  any  time,  and  at  any  point,  when  to  hurry 
would  mean  flat  failure.  Then  there's  one  or  two  things  I 
must  know  better  before  we  clinch  this  thing,  and  I  must 
have  plenty  of  elbow  room.  I  shall  be  glad  if  all  goes 
well  for  more  reasons  than  one.  It'll  be  a  godsend  to 
Leverson,  and  I'm  very  far  from  having  anything  against 
Leverson  from  a  financial  point  of  view,  though  there 
are  some  things  very  much  against  him." 

"  Indeed !    What  things  .-'  "  Thallon  asked  innocently. 

"  He's  so  damned  cruel  to  women,"  Whitelaw  said,  in- 
tense passion  breaking  for  an  instant  through  his  polished 
crust,  —  a  passion  as  rare  with  him  as  the  oath  he  used  to 
express  it.  "But  there  —  I  won't  enlarge  on  that  point," 
he  went  on,  recovering  himself  ;  "  if  he  can  get  his  money 


ONE-SIDED  CONFIDENCE 


117 


out  and  get  away  from  Brockton  without  disgracing  him- 
self, I'm  satisfied." 

"  Is  the  estate  so  much  embarrassed  as  all  that  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  don't  mean  financial  disgrace.  True,  he's 
made  some  holes  in  the  capital,  but  you  needn't  worry 
about  that.  It  will  go  to  the  next  heir  more  than  intact  if 
we're  able  to  get  it  round  this  corner,"  he  added,  glancing 
at  his  companion  with  an  odd  twinkle  in  his  keen  gray 
eyes. 

"  Who  is  next  of  kin  ? "  the  other  asked  coolly. 

"  I  said  heir — the  kin  are  only  distant  cousins.  The 
wife  has  a  full  life  interest  by  will,  but  on  her  death  it  goes 
back  to  the  Leverson  blood.  I  talk  to  you  rather  openly 
about  all  this,  as  it  will  come  within  your  province  as  con- 
fidential clerk." 

"  He  said  nothing  about  it  to  me,"  Thallon  rejoined  in 
some  surprise.     "  He  engaged  me  for  literary  work." 

"Very  likely,  but  he  has  no  idea  of  confining  you  to 
that.  Your  connection  with  Hartley  &  Bald  will  prove 
useful  to  you  there,  and  I'm  quite  sure  you  needn't  worry 
about  being  kept  busy.  He  has  a  talent  for  keeping  other 
people  busy,  has  Leverson.  He  informed  me  to-day  that 
he  intended  taking  his  personal  affairs  out  of  my  office,  for 
whicli  I  don't  mind  saying  I'm  devoutly  thankful.  A  per- 
fect child  in  money  matters,  with  a  fatal  superstition  that, 
by  some  occult  process  of  bookkeeping,  an  overdrawn 
income  can  be  made  into  a  credit  balance.  His  accounts 
with  me  are  always  overdrawn,  and  when  it  gets  to  a  point 
where  he  has  to  be  brought  up  with  a  round  turn,  he  comes 
down  to  the  office  and  makes  a  scene.  He  says  the  reason 
why  his  affairs  are  so  involved  is  because  I  haven't  kept 
his  books  straight.     I  wish  you  joy  of  the  job." 

"  In  Heaven's  name  how  does  he  manage  to  spend  the 
money }     He  can't  spend  it  here !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  can,  though  he  has  various  other  interests 


Il8  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

which  help  him  to  get  rid  of  most  of  it,  —  a  house  in  New 
York,  another  in  Newport,  a  shooting-box  in  Scotland, 
and,  I  beUeve,  a  house  in  London.  Three  months  in  the 
twelve  is  the  most  he's  ever  given  Brockton  until  this  year, 
and  he  wouldn't  give  that  now  if  he  wasn't  trying  to  sell 
out.  That's  where  the  difference  comes  in  between  an 
aristocracy  of  blood,  or  what's  the  same  thing  —  land,  and 
an  aristocracy  of  portable  property,  or  money.  The  most 
degenerate  of  the  English  nobility,  at  least,  had  some  inter- 
est in  the  soil,  —  had  to  have  in  order  to  live,  —  to  say 
nothing  of  holding  his  place  in  his  caste.  An  American 
miUionnaire  of  the  second  generation  —  once  well  away 
from  the  smell  of  the  machinery  —  is  responsible  to  nothing 
but  his  own  sweet  will.  He  may  be  a  model  citizen,  — 
very  likely  most  of  them  are,  —  but  it's  not  from  force  of 
circumstances." 

Thallon,  not  in  the  least  interested  in  abstract  theories 
about  millionnaires,  here  adroitly  turned  the  current  of  the 
talk  back  into  personal  channels. 

"  And  Mrs.  Leverson  —  does  she  assist  the  Scotch  shoot- 
ing-box and  the  Newport  villa  in  getting  rid  of  the  cash  ? " 

Whitelaw's  manner  froze  solidly  at  the  mention  of  the 
name. 

"  I  really  couldn't  tell  you,"  he  said  stiffly. 

"  I  was  only  trying  to  fit  one  of  your  own  theories  to  the 
lady's  case,  wondering  whether  she  enjoyed  that  enviable 
independence  which  you  regard  as  the  corner-stone  of 
nobility." 

"  Oh,  my  theories  are  not  made  to  fit  women,"  Whitelaw 
returned  gloomily,  though  with  an  evident  effort  to  recover 
his  friendly  tone.  "  I've  known  them  to  sing  a  Gloria  over 
a  crust  of  bread  and  prepare  for  heaven  on  three  hundred 
dollars  a  year.  It's  a  survival,  I  suppose,  of  something 
better  in  the  race,  though  where  it  came  in  I  hardly  know, 
because  originally,  of  course,  we  were  all  beasts.     Well, 


ONE-SIDED  CONFIDENCE  II9 

well,  in  the  present  case,  though  I  dare  say  this  new  con- 
cern will  go  smash,  I  have  the  recompense  of  knowing 
that  Leverson  will  get  his  money  out  and  that  Brockton 
will  be  no  worse  off  without  him.  Ah,  I  see  you  know 
your  way  about  already.  A  stranger  might  hardly  recog- 
nize this  as  the  beginning  of  the  main  street  —  within  two 
minutes'  walk  of  the  office.  What  a  magnificent  night  it 
is!" 

As  he  spoke  he  turned  his  face  up  to  the  brilliant  star- 
strewn  sky.  In  the  east  a  soft  flush  over  the  distant  hills 
foretold  the  coming  moon.  A  brisk  breeze  had  sprung  up 
from  the  river;  the  chill  in- the  air  was  more  noticeable. 
They  were  still  in  the  country  with  the  sound  of  the  chirp- 
ing crickets,  though  the  hitherto  widely  scattered  houses 
were  momentarily  getting  closer  together.  Here  and  there 
a  scrap  of  flagged  pavement  broke  the  gravel ;  an  electric 
car  flashed  past  them  on  its  way  into  the  city. 

They  walked  on  steadily,  the  talk  languishing.  Thallon, 
for  his  part,  devoutly  hoped  he  had  made  no  enemy  of  a 
man  who  was  certainly  in  a  position  to  do  him  considerable 
harm ;  but  he  still  very  much  preferred  his  enmity  to  any 
deeper  understanding  with  him,  such  as  Whitelaw's  en- 
gaging confidence  had  seemed  to  hint  at.  It  was  some 
years  now  since  Owen  Thallon  had  found  himself  pos- 
sessed of  those  useful  cuspids,  popularly  known  as  eye 
teeth.  They  had  "  come  through "  under  stress  of  cir- 
cumstances which  had  required  the  mastication  of  some 
very  unpleasant  facts,  but,  being  there,  they  were  now 
fully  justifying  their  existence. 

"  Here  we  are,"  Whitelaw  was  saying,  as,  having  trav- 
ersed a  block  or  two  of  solidly  built-up  street,  he  turned 
into  a  dark  passageway  between  two  brilliantly  lighted 
shops  and  began  ascending  a  pair  of  creaking  stairs  with 
the  assured  step  of  a  man  who  knew  his  ground  even  in 
the  dark.     "  This  is  Briscom  Block.     I've  my  office  in  the 


120  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

same  building,  in  fact  connecting  with  this  of  the  Com- 
pany.    Wait  here  a  minute  while  I  turn  on  the  light." 

In  the  darkness  Thallon  heard  the  turning  of  a  key  in 
an  unwilling  lock,  heard  his  companion's  footsteps  crossing 
an  uncarpeted  floor,  and  an  instant  later  was  half  blinded 
by  the  glare  of  an  electric  light. 

The  room  he  perceived,  as  soon  as  his  eyes  adjusted 
themselves  to  the  light,  was  scantily,  almost  shabbily,  fur- 
nished, with  a  long  table  in  the  centre,  five  or  six  cane-seated 
chairs,  and  a  couple  of  large  safes.  It  was  oppressively 
close,  the  windows  having,  apparently,  been  closed  all  day. 
Through  them  the  noises  of  the  street  below  seemed 
muffled  and  far  off. 

Whitelaw  made  no  move  to  open  them  —  the  work  in 
hand  was  not  likely  to  take  long.  He  had  already  stooped 
down  before  one  of  the  safes,  across  the  front  of  which 
was  inscribed,  in  large  gilt  letters,  "  The  Leverson  Car 
Company,"  and  was  turning  the  index  wheel  of  the  com- 
bination with  deft,  sure  fingers. 

"  It's  not  an  impressive  sanctuary  to  enclose  the  records 
of  a  three-million-dollar  plant,"  he  remarked.  "  I  reckon 
the  Consolidated  Company  will  have  to  have  something 
much  more  swell  if  it's  to  market  its  stock.  This  place 
was  never  got  up  for  show,  but  it's  seen  some  solid  work 
done,  as  I've  reason  to  know,  having  done  some  of  it 
myself.  Now  for  the  papers  and  your  minute  book  — 
they  go  in  here  —  so  —  and  the  job's  done." 

He  closed  the  big  steel  door  with  a  snap,  swung  the 
index  wheel  over  to  the  right,  tried  the  handle  with  a 
jerk,  and  rose  to  his  feet.  A  moment  later  they  were  in 
the  street  again. 

"  Where  are  you  stopping  ? "  he  asked  abruptly,  as  if  he 
had  locked  his  business  affairs  into  the  safe  upstairs  and 
now  had  leisure  for  the  first  time  to  regard  his  companion 
as  a  man. 


ONE-SIDED  CONFIDENCE  121 

"At  the  Everett.     I  moved  in  there  this  afternoon." 

"  The  best  you  can  do  in  Brockton,  I  reckon,  on  short 
notice.  I  have  bachelor  quarters  a  square  or  two  the  other 
way.  Will  you  come  round  for  a  cigar  and  a  glass  of 
brandy  and  soda  before  you  turn  in  ?  I  can't  offer  you 
anything  better." 

"  Much  obliged,  but  I  think  the  turning  in  will  have  to 
be  made  the  first  order  of  business ;  it's  close  on  twelve." 

"  Good  night,  then,"  Whitelaw  said,  holding  out  his  hand 
with  completely  recovered  cordiality.  "  If  I  can  be  of  any 
use,  let  me  know  —  good  night." 

Thallon  took  it  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  almost 
satisfied  at  last  that  he  had  nicely  rounded  out  his  day's 
work.  Yet,  as  he  walked  slowly  back  to  his  hotel,  through 
streets  still  more  or  less  filled  by  the  habitues  of  Brockton's 
numerous  saloons,  he  possessed  a  disagreeable  conscious- 
ness that,  though  he  had  taken  the  only  course  consistent 
with  safety,  in  keeping  his  own  counsel,  it  was  perfectly 
on  the  cards  that  Randal  Whitelaw  could  get  along  with- 
out it  much  better  than  he  could  get  along  without  Randal 
Whitelaw. 


CHAPTER   XII 


AN   UNFORTUNATE  SUCCESS 


"I  don't  see  how  you  can  go  on  taking  an  interest  in 
people  you  dislike,  for  you  obviously  do  dislike  him," 
Mildred  Gilbreed  observed  to  her  sister  as  they  turned 
their  backs  on  the  Elmhurst  breakfast  table,  which  had 
been  occupied  by  the  family  in  relays  since  eight  o'clock, 
and  sauntered  out  through  the  open  French  windows  of  the 
dining  room  into  the  inviting  shade  of  the  wide  veranda 
beyond.  "When  I  dislike  people,  I  always  avoid  them. 
It's  so  much  simpler." 

"  I  really  was  not  aware  that  I  had  devoted  any  time  to 
Mr.  Thallon,"  Margaret  returned  with  a  look  of  annoyance ; 
"but  there  is  no  earthly  reason  why  I  should  avoid  him. 
His  position  here  is,  I  think,  a  rather  trying  one,  and  if  I 
have  made  it  any  easier  for  him  by  a  few  small  civilities 
when  we  meet  at  my  own  table,  I  am  only  too  glad  to  hear 
it.  What  you  say,  however,  is  true ;  I  don't  especially  like 
him." 

"Why.?" 

"  Well,  if  you  really  want  to  know,  —  though  I  hardly  see 
how  it  can  possibly  signify,  —  he  does  not  impress  me  as 
being  particularly  sincere." 

"  People  like  that  never  are.  Of  course,  he  owes  his 
place  to  flattering  Ashton,  and  he  doubtless  gets  very  good 
wages  for  doing  it." 

Margaret  flushed  slightly,  as  if  the  remark  grated  on  her. 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you  about  his  flattering  Ashton," 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  SUCCESS  1 23 

she  said  thoughtfully.  "  Insincerity  need  not  always  take 
that  form.  There  are  times  when  he  says  things  to  him 
some  of  us  would  not  dare  to  say,  and  yet  he  retains  more 
influence  over  him  than  any  one  I  know  except  Mr.  White- 
law.  You  -remember  the  other  evening  when  Mr.  Thallon 
had  stayed  late  and  Ashton  asked  him  to  play  chess  after 
dinner.  It  would  have  been  easy  for  a  man  in  his  position 
to  have  accepted  defeat.  Ashton  dislikes  being  beaten, 
and  shows  it." 

"  Yes ;  we  all  know  that,  and  act  accordingly,"  Mildred 
put  in  with  a  little  grimace. 

"  Yes ;  but  he  did  not.  I  could  see  he  was  doing  his 
best  to  win.  It  was  noticeable,  for  Ashton  plays  well. 
You  know  how  it  came  out,  and  Ashton  was  annoyed,  as 
usual,  but  the  next  evening  he  asked  him  again.  He's 
quite  one  of  the  family  now.  If  his  work  were  half  as 
sincere  as  his  chess,  I  should  have  more  faith  in  him." 

"  I  hardly  see  why  you  should  allow  that  to  annoy  you." 

"  I  did  not  say  it  annoyed  me." 

"  But  it  does,"  Mildred  persisted.  "  He  came  into  the 
breakfast  room  to  give  Ashton  some  papers  half  an  hour 
ago,  and  you  looked  positively  uncomfortable  when  you 
had  to  say  good  morning  to  him." 

'^'  Then  I  can  only  say  I  showed  very  bad  taste.  I  only 
hope  Mr.  Thallon  is  less  observing  than  you  are.  I  should 
be  more  than  sorry  if  I  had  given  him  the  impression  that 
I  attached  so  much  importance  to  the  matter.  It  strikes 
me  he  is  sufficiently  imbued  with  a  sense  of  his  own  im- 
portance as  it  is." 

Mildred  was  about  to  graciously  acknowledge  this  admis- 
sion, when  her  attention  was  attracted  by  the  appearance 
of  Reggie  around  the  comer  of  the  house.  He  was  dressed 
in  immaculate  white  boating  flannels  and  was  accompanied 
by  a  bevy  of  dogs. 

"  Leverson's  waiting  for  you  down  at  the  landing,"  he 


124  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

called  up  to  his  younger  sister  from  his  place  on  the  lawn 
at  the  foot  of  the  veranda.  "You'd  better  hurry,  for  we've 
got  to  make  the  most  of  this  breeze,  such  as  it  is.  Better 
change  your  mind,  Madge,  and  come  along.  Hilda  Faucon's 
coming.  We're  to  pick  her  up  at  Simpson's  wharf.  Come  ! 
Let  that  old  fossil  do  his  own  digging  for  one  day  and  join 
the  incorrigibly  lazy." 

Margaret  colored  with  genuine  pleasure  as  she  threw  him 
a  smiling  negative.  In  spite  of  Reggie's  hatred  of  lectures 
and  the  fact  that  she  often  lectured  him,  she  knew  well 
enough  that  she  was  the  boy's  favorite  —  his  favorite 
in  a  motherly  sort  of  way,  despite  his  two  years'  seniority. 
She  was  very  human,  and  it  was  a  keen  pleasure  to  her  to 
feel  that  she  was  Jirsi  with  some  one.  Of  course  it  would 
not  last.  When  she  had  trained  him  into  the  brilliant, 
successful  man  he  ought  to  be,  the  right  woman  would 
come  along  and  take  him  from  her.  She  was  quite  pre- 
pared for  that,  —  quite  prepared  to  resign  him  to  such  a 
woman  with  the  proud  consciousness  that  he  would  do  her 
infinite  credit. 

Three  weeks  had  flown  by  since  Reggie's  return,  and  if 
he  were  not  as  yet  a  reformed  character,  he  had  expressed 
such  noble  sentiments  in  that  connection  that  it  was  impos- 
sible not  to  feel  encouraged.  The  same  period  had  brought 
the  Colonel  and  Mildred  on  from  Harrisburg,  the  former  in 
the  full  flush  of  a  triumphant  vindication  at  the  hands  of 
an  enthusiastic  legislature  (achieved  only  after  he  had 
quelled  an  incipient  revolt  within  the  lines  of  the  party 
caucus),  the  latter  bent  on  making  the  most  of  those 
Elmhurst  advantages  with  which,  to  her  wonder  and  dis- 
gust, Margaret  had  accomplished  so  little. 

The  Elmhurst  "  advantages  "  were  certainly  not  in  Mar- 
garet's thoughts  just  then.  She  stood  where  her  sister  had 
left  her,  leaning  slightly  against  one  of  the  low  pillars  of 
the  veranda,  lost  in  a  pleasant  revery,  as  she  watched  the 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  SUCXZESS  12$ 

two  white  figures  making  their  way  down  the  gravel  walk 
of  the  beautiful  old  garden  toward  the  little  landing  on  the 
river  bank  below. 

All  the  dogs  had  followed  these  seekers  after  pleasure 
save  Don,  the  St.  Bernard,  who,  perfectly  aware  they  would 
be  turned  back  at  the  landing,  and  too  dignified  to  place 
himself  in  an  awkward  position,  had  declined  the  attempt 
with  a  yawn,  and,  slowly  mounting  the  veranda  steps,  now 
thrust  his  nose  into  his  mistress's  hand  as  it  hung  listlessly 
at  her  side. 

She  turned  with  a  slight  start  at  the  cool,  moist  touch,  — 
a  start  which  might  easily  have  been  ascribed  to  a  less 
simple  cause,  for  there,  directly  behind  her  in  one  of 
the  long  French  windows  of  Leverson's  study,  stood  Owen 
Thallon  regarding  her  fixedly. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  ask  him  how  long  he  had  been 
there,  and  her  annoyance  was  not  lessened  when  she  real- 
ized the  following  moment  that  a  question  of  that  kind  was 
hardly  permissible  addressed  to  a  person  who  at  least 
occupied  the  position  of  a  gentleman  in  her  husband's 
house.  It  was  useless  to  tell  herself  with  some  scorn, 
that  it  was  nothing  to  her  if  he  had  chosen  to  overhear 
her  rather  frank  remarks  about  himself  some  moments 
sincfe.  She  had,  after  all,  no  right  to  discuss  his  character 
even,  as  she  had  supposed,  behind  his  back,  and  in  a  way 
which  became  distinctly  embarrassing  when  she  discovered 
it  had  been  practically  before  his  face.  His  dependent  posi- 
tion only  made  her  carelessness  the  less  excusable. 

His  first  words  removed  all  doubts  that  he  had  heard. 

"  May  I  ask,  Mrs.  Leverson,  what  makes  you  think  me 
insincere  ?"  he  began  without  preface,  as  if  he  were  taking 
a  perfectly  natural  part  in  the  conversation  she  had  been 
carrying  on  with  her  sister. 

She  could  not  help  feeling  that  he  was  taking  a  mean 
advantage  of  the  situation,  but  if   he  insisted  pn  doing 


126  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

SO  there  was  seemingly  no  help  for  it.  She  was  quite 
prepared  to  make  her  answer  as  straightforward  as  his 
question. 

"  Because  I  do  not  believe  you  could  possibly  do  the 
work  you  are  doing  if  you  were,"  she  said  without  an  in- 
stant's hesitation. 

She  knew  well  enough  that  her  first  doubt  of  the  young 
fellow  had  come  to  her  some  days  before  when  Leverson, 
with  enormous  pride,  had  shown  her  a  large  pile  of  spoiled 
foolscap  as  the  product  of  his  own  ceaseless  toil.  She 
had  opened  it  with  a  very  genuine  desire  to  mark  its 
virtues,  but  had  not  read  ten  pages  of  this  brand-new, 
beautifully  written  manuscript,  when  the  real  truth  of  its 
composition  came  home  to  her.  Bad  as  it  was  as  litera- 
ture, one  thing  about  it  was  absolutely  clear,  that  it  was 
written  by  a  very  clever  man  under  adverse  circumstances. 
It  was  impossible  to  read  it  without  respecting  Owen 
Thallon's  brains  —  and  equally  impossible  to  read  it,  under 
the  circumstances,  and  retain  as  much  respect  for  Owen 
Thallon's  principles. 

"  Do  you  refer  to  its  quality  .-•  I  hope  you  don't  imag- 
ine for  a  moment  that  I  consider  it  good,"  he  went  on. 

"  On  the  contrary  —  while  it  is  unquestionably  clever  — 
it  is  not  at  all  the  kind  of  work  that  any  man  who  could 
do  it  would  consider  good.  You  would  not  dream  of 
publishing  it  under  your  own  name,  but  you  are  quite 
ready  some  else  should  publish  it  under  his,  though  you 
know  he  will  be  disappointed  in  the  result." 

"That  is  true,"  he  said,  coloring  slightly  as  he  met  her 
serious  eyes ;  "  yet  I  may  say  in  self-defence  that  I  have 
all  along  had  large  doubts  whether  it  ever  gets  as  far  as 
publication.  It  struck  me  I  was  being  employed  on  some- 
thing purely  a  pastime  on  Mr.  Leverson's  part,  and  that 
if  he  got  enough  amusement  out  of  it  to  compensate  him 
for  my  salary,  the  result  was  no  affair  of  mine." 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  SUCCESS  12/ 

"  You  are  wrong  to  imagine  he  will  not  publish  it,"  she 
returned,  speaking  more  guardedly  when  she  found  herself 
touching  on  this  dangerous  ground.  "  He  will  publish  it 
when  it  is  finished  ;  it  will  be  mercilessly  criticised,  and  he 
will  be  made  not  only  angry,  but  miserably  wretched,  for 
he  is  sensitive  to  criticism  because  he  has  never  had  it  to 
bear.  Your  being  dismissed  in  disgrace  will  not  repair 
the  injury  you  have  done  him,  for  which  you  will  have 
been  paid  out  of  his  own  purse." 

The  color  deepened  on  the  young  man's  face.  There 
are  limits  to  masculine  patience  even  when  its  overstretch- 
ing is  referable  to  a  very  handsome  girl  of  twenty,  who 
happens  to  be  the  wife  of  one's  employer.  However,  he 
had  only  himself  to  thank  for  it;  he  had  asked  for  her 
opinion,  and  it  struck  him  he  was  getting  it  with  a  ven- 
geance. Don,  as  if  he  rather  enjoyed  this  turning  of  the 
tables,  was  standing  by  his  beloved  lady  regarding  the  vic- 
tim with  open-mouthed,  drivelling  amusement. 

"  Suppose  I  had  not  done  all  this,"  Thallon  said,  not 
without  a  touch  of  hostility  in  his  tone,  though  his  eyes 
were  on  her  with  a  deeper  concern  than  any  woman  had 
ever  inspired  in  him  before ;  "  how  many  men  would 
havQ  taken  the  place  only  too  willingly.  You  remember 
that"  day  at  Dr.  Lindley's.  You  were  kind  enough 
then  to  show  some  interest  in  my  getting  the  position. 
Perhaps  because  you'd  not  then  discovered  my  lack  of 
principle." 

There  was  a  ring  of  bitterness  in  the  last  words  he  had 
not  meant  to  put  there,  though  it  did  not  escape  her  quick 
ear.  She  had  no  intention  of  qualifying  what  she  had  to 
say,  but  she  could  not  help  feeling  sorry  for  him  just 
the  same. 

"  I  certainly  had  no  idea  then  that  your  work  would 
take  this  direction,"  she  went  on  gravely.  "  Mr.  Leverson 
has  had  numberless  secretaries,  but  none  of  them   until 


128  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

now  have  undertaken  to  write  his  novels  for  him,  I  think 
we  are  safe  in  supposing  that  none  of  the  others  would 
have  made  the  same  kind  of  success  of  it.  You  needn't 
take  that  as  a  compliment,"  she  added  with  a  touch  of 
severity,  in  answer  to  an  irrepressible  smile  which  at  the 
moment  flitted  across  Thallon's  face ;  "  it's  not  a  distinc- 
tion to  be  especially  proud  of,  —  having  great  gifts  and 
throwing  them  away.  What  I  want  to  say  is  (so  long  as 
you  thought  fit  to  overhear  my  remark  to  Miss  Gilbreed) 
that  it  is  an  unfortunate  success  both  for  Mr.  Leverson 
and  for  you." 

"  My  overhearing  the  remark  was  quite  unavoidable," 
Thallon  returned,  drawing  himself  up  slightly.  "  I  was  at 
work  within  three  steps  of  the  window  as  you  stood  here 
talking.  But  let  that  pass ;  it  matters  very  little  whether 
a  nameless  stranger  is  a  gentleman  or  not.  Supposing 
him  not  to  be  one,  why  is  this  success  of  mine  unfortu- 
nate for  me?" 

"  Forgive  me  if  I  spoke  unkindly,"  she  said  with  a 
touch  of  contrition  which  showed  itself  more  in  an  in- 
tuitive gesture  of  the  hands  than  in  her  voice.  "  Perhaps 
it  is  because  I  think  you  are  a  gentleman  that  I  want  to 
save  you  from  doing  something  I  think  you  will  regret. 
It  will  injure  you  in  the  first  place,  because  you  cannot 
injure  others  without  injuring  yourself;  in  the  second, 
because  you  are  capable  of  doing  much  better  work  in 
literature.  It  is  absurd  for  you  to  speak  as  if  you  were 
dependent  on  this  position.  You  could  have  made  a  much 
better,  a  much  more  honest  place  for  yourself  elsewhere. 
Why  have  you  chosen  this  ?  " 

The  color  had  all  left  his  face  now.  His  easy  carriage, 
as  he  stood  there  in  the  frame  of  the  tall  French  window, 
had  somehow  lost  all  trace  of  carelessness.  The  hand 
which  he  had  raised  as  if  to  interrupt  her  with  some  pas- 
sionate rejoinder  was  tightly  clenched.     Supposing  he  took 


AN   UNFORTUNATE  SUCCESS  1 29 

her  at  her  word.  Had  he,  after  all,  anything  to  conceal, 
—  anything  to  be  ashamed  of  ?  She  would,  of  course, 
take  sides  against  him,  but  he  would  at  least  have  the  sat- 
isfaction of  knowing  that  he  was  in  the  right,  and  that  she 
would  have  to  eat  her  own  fine  words  about  nobility  of 
purpose  if  she  denied  it.  Another  moment  and  he  had 
dismissed  the  idea  as  childish, ;  yes,  worse  than  that  — 
melodramatic.  When  a  moment  later  he  did  speak,  it  was 
with  completely  recovered  self-possession,  and  to  ask  a 
question  —  not  to  answer  hers. 

"  Suppose  that  I  were  to  give  up  this  work  though  re- 
maining here,  —  for  I  believe  there  is  plenty  of  room  for 
me  to  earn  my  salary  quite  outside  these  miserable  at- 
tempts at  fiction,"  he  said,  smiling,  —  "  would  that  increase 
your  faith  in  my  sincerity  ?  " 

She  looked  at  him  in  undisguised  surprise. 

"If  you  gave  such  overwhelming  proof  of  it,  how  could 
I  fail  to  have  faith  in  you  ? "  she  said  simply.  "  Yet  even 
if  it  were  possible,  I  fail  to  see  your  object  in  staying  here. 
You  would  certainly  be  standing  in  your  own  light.  Your 
position  at  the  best  could  only  be  subordinate  —  could 
lead  to  nothing.  In  three  months  we  will  be  leaving 
Elmhyrst.  Mr.  Leverson's  idea  is,  I  think,  to  have  you 
accompany  him.  Such  a  life  would  be  for  you  very  little 
better  than  a  waste  of  time." 

It  struck  him  then  for  the  first  time  that  she  was  as 
yet  unaware  of  the  impending  change  in  the  Leverson  for- 
tunes. It  seemed  well-nigh  incredible  that  her  husband 
could  have  gone  on  deliberately  for  three  weeks  maturing 
plans  which  were  to  so  materially  change  the  current  of 
her  life  without  taking  the  trouble  to  inform  her  of  it. 
Thallon  knew  the  secret  had  been  carefully  guarded  for 
business  reasons,  but  this  was  an  excess  of  caution  hardly 
in  keeping  with  Leverson's  character.  Though  this  young 
fellow  was  far  from  guessing  what  the  change  would  mean 


I30  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

to  her,  its  being  kept  from  her  struck  him  as  rather  brutal. 
This  discovery  did  not  increase  his  love  for  his  employer, 
though  it  was  obviously  none  of  his  business  to  inform 
her.  He  had,  however,  a  perfect  right  to  make  the  pos- 
sibilities of  his  position  clear  to  her,  and  he  proceeded  to 
do  so  for  his  own  satisfaction. 

"  I  think  you  overrate  Mr.  Leverson's  dependence  on 
my  literary  efforts,"  he  said,  smiling.  "  He  has  lately  found 
some  fault  with  the  way  I  have  rendered  some  of  his 
ideas.  I  ought  also  to  tell  you  that  he  has  employed  me 
a  good  deal  in  straightening  out  some  of  his  business 
affairs,  and  that  one  of  his  plans  is  to  leave  me  in  charge 
of  these  affairs  (more  or  less  under  the  direction  of  Mr. 
Whitelaw)  when  he  leaves  Brockton.  There  are  times  when 
I  think  he  rather  tires  of  the  novel  writing.  I  don't  think 
it  would  require  much  persuasion  to  induce  him  to  abandon 
it  for  a  time.  At  the  other  work,  as  I've  said,  I  could 
honestly  earn  my  money  and  yet  have  time  to  look  out 
for  more  ambitious  schemes." 

"  Ah,  that  is  quite  another  matter,"  she  said  in  a  tone 
of  quiet  satisfaction ;  "  but  I  don't  want  you  to  do  this 
simply  because  I  suggested  it.  You  must  see  it  is  the 
only  thing  you  can  do  with  any  honesty  to  him,  or  any 
self-respect." 

For  the  moment,  as  she  wished  him  a  smiling  good 
morning,  Margaret  Leverson  was  perfectly  happy,  be- 
cause she  was  a  good  woman  with  a  vigorous  will  of  her 
own,  who  had  succeeded  in  convincing  a  young  man  of  the 
error  of  his  ways,  and  forced  him  to  acknowledge  the 
force  of  her  arguments. 

It  was  not  until  she  found  herself  in  her  own  rooms, 
where  she  had  a  batch  of  household  accounts  to  settle 
before  she  went  to  Mr.  Doniphan's  in  the  early  afternoon, 
that  the  affair  began  to  wear  a  somewhat  different  aspect. 
It  came  upon  her  then   with   startling   suddenness   that 


AN  UNFORTUNATE  SUCCESS  I3I 

for  the  second  time  she  had  interfered  with  her  husband's 
personal  affairs.  Not  only  that,  but  she  had  done  it  in 
such  a  way  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  tell  him 
about  it. 

In  an  impulsive  effort  to  save  him  from  something 
which  would  have  made  him  absolutely  wretched,  she  had 
entered  into  a  sort  of  confederacy  with  one  of  his  own 
clerks.  Of  course,  when  he  had  first  shown  her  the 
manuscript,  she  ought  either  to  have  declined  reading  it, 
or  to  have  made  what  criticisms  she  had  to  make  to  him. 
She  had,  in  fact,  attempted  to  do  this,  remarking  with 
more  than  her  usual  caution,  that  while  it  was  cleverly 
written,  she  did  not  think  it  suitable  for  pubUcation,  —  not 
a  word  as  to  the  obvious  fact  that  it  was  not  written  by 
him.  Yet  she  had  got  no  farther  when  Leverson  had 
snatched  up  his  manuscript  and  departed  in  high  dudgeon. 
She  had  not  renewed  the  discussion, — it  was  so  palpably 
useless  to  do  so,  —  but  this  latter  development  had  made 
it  something  worse  than  useless. 

The  whole  situation  was  simple  enough.  Poor  Mar- 
garet, after  three  weeks'  trial,  had  suddenly  waked  to  the 
fact  that  she  could  not  share  the  advantages  of  matrimony 
with;,a  man  like  Leverson,  and  at  the  same  time  ignore 
him.  She  did  not  know  that  a  different  kind  of  woman 
might  have  done  it  very  easily. 


CHAPTER   XIII 


THE    BURNEY    HOUSE 


Early  summer  had  slipped  past  Thallon  almost  unob- 
served. As  July  came  within  measurable  distance,  he 
woke  abruptly  to  a  consciousness  that  the  prospective 
breaking  up  of  the  Leverson  household  had  much  more 
meaning  for  him  than  it  would  have  had  ten  weeks  before. 

Despite  Miss  Laurie,  who  seemed  to  have  taken  an 
unaccountable  aversion  to  him,  he  had  adjusted  himself 
to  conditions  there  much  as  some  plants  persist  in  thriv- 
ing under  adverse  conditions. 

Of  Mrs.  Leverson  he  saw,  of  necessity,  a  good  deal,  — 
more  probably  than  he  would  have  seen  had  she  not 
known  something  of  his  past  through  Mrs.  Lindley.  Per- 
haps, too,  she  was  desirous  of  wiping  out  his  recollection 
of  that  day  on  the  veranda;  in  any  case  she  did  not 
again  refer  to  his  work,  and  he  would  have  been  much 
more  lacking  in  tact  than  he  was,  had  he  not  seen  the 
awkwardness  of  the  topic  from  her  point  of  view.  He  ap- 
peared to  be  a  young  man  with  a  good  many  resources, 
and  such  odd  moments  as  the  mistress  of  Elmhurst  chose 
to  give  him  she  could  hardly  have  put  down  as  wasted. 
There  was  no  question  but  what  his  presence  in  the  house 
had  done  something  to  brighten  it,  and  there  was  also  no 
question  but  that  it  needed  brightening.  Owen  Thallon 
was  the  source  through  which  most  of  the  news,  foreign 
and  domestic,  filtered  into  Elmhurst.  The  Colonel  had 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  him,  and,  strangest  of  all,  Margaret, 

132 


THE  BURNEY  HOUSE  1 33 

at  the  very  moment  when  she  felt  herself  drifting  away 
from  old  associations,  found  this  absolute  stranger  of  a 
few  weeks  since  more  or  less  of  a  connecting  link  between 
herself  and  the  forbidden  world  outside. 

Thallon  had  long  been  on  the  best  of  terms  with  the 
Lindleys,  and  had  lately  struck  up  some  sort  of  acquaint- 
ance with  Reggie.  It  was  during  one  of  Leverson's  fre- 
quent absences  from  Brockton  that  this  confidential  clerk 
of  his  walked  into  the  Burney  House  one  hot  afternoon. 

"  I  say,  this  is  good  of  you,"  Reggie  remarked,  after 
they  had  shaken  hands.  "  Clear  those  traps  out  of  that 
smoking  chair,  and  make  yourself  comfortable.  You'll 
find  a  pipe  on  the  table  and  some  black  Turkish  in  that 
stone  jar.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  were  a  Penn 
Grad  ? "  he  went  on  cordially,  as  he  slowly  unwound  the 
stem  of  a  wicked-looking  hooka,  and  struck  a  match. 
"  I  only  heard  it  from  Lindley  this  afternoon,  and  I've 
known  you  half  a  lifetime." 

Reggie  Gilbreed  had  by  this  time  curled  himself  up 
among  the  cushions  of  an  Eastern  divan  opposite  his 
visitor,  his  mouth  emitting  little  wreaths  of  smoke  as  he 
lay  there,  his  handsome  head  pillowed  on  his  hand,  his 
elbo^  supported  on  a  pile  of  Persian  rugs. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  have  known,"  he  went  on  gra- 
ciously ;  "  I've  seen  the  name  often  enough  on  the  Hall 
rolls.  Let's  see  —  you  must  have  left  the  year  before  I 
matriculated.  Happy  man !  You  just  escaped  Ferguson 
the  Vengeful.  He  used  to  keep  me  up  winter  nights  con- 
struing Latin  verse  which  I've  had  sense  enough  to  for- 
get since.  Fate's  an  odd  thing,  isn't  it?  To  think  we 
should  have  been  hatched,  as  it  were,  by  the  same  hen, 
though  I  ornamented  a  younger  brood,  and  then  have  sunk 
together  into  the  common  misery  of  a  dismal  hole  like 
Brockton.  In  the  name  of  the  beatific  cherub  who  is  sup- 
posed to  watch  over  us,  whatever  made  you  come  here  ? " 


134  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Thallon  looked  a  trifle  weary.  He  was  getting  tired  of 
being  asked  this  question.  He  had  not  taken  the  prof- 
fered chair,  but  stood  leaning  against  a  small  table  which 
occupied  the  centre  of  the  room,  fingering  a  long-stemmed 
brier  pipe  he  had  just  taken  from  among  its  multitudinous 
collection  of  odds  and  ends. 

"  Leverson,"  he  answered  comprehensively. 

"  What !  Not  the  clerkship  !  You  must  excuse  me, 
but  I  really  don't  believe  you.  I've  seen  little  enough  of 
you,  I'll  admit,  but  I'll  hazard  some  of  my  hard-earned 
money  you're  worthy  a  better  fate  than  that.  It's  curious 
though  how  differently  people  look  at  the  same  thing. 
There's  my  esteemed  father  —  wanted  me  to  make  a  try 
for  the  place.  Fancy  my  writing  Leverson's  letters  and 
taking  down  his  poetry  from  dictation.  My  disposition 
may  be  kindly,  but  there's  a  limit  even  to  my  endurance. 
With  you  it  may  be  different.  Madge  tells  me  you've 
made  a  success  of  it." 

"  Did  Mrs.  Leverson  say  that  ?  "  Mr.  Thallon's  indif- 
ference had  entirely  disappeared. 

"Certainly  !  Why  not .''  I  suppose  the  thing  lies  in  the 
direction  of  your  talents.  Anyway,  you  seem  to  have 
earned  a  breathing  space.  I  didn't  know  my  cheerful 
brother-in-law  ever  gave  away  anything,  —  least  of  all  a 
half  holiday." 

"  In  one  sense,  he  hasn't.  He  went  off  yesterday  morn- 
ing under  the  impression  that  he'd  left  me  enough  work  to 
last  a  week.  I  think  it  rather  difficult  for  Mr.  Leverson  to 
make  an  exact  estimate  on  a  week's  work,  and  I  confess  I 
made  no  special  effort  to  aid  him  in  this  case.  I  got 
through  to  my  own  satisfaction  about  noon  to-day,  wan- 
dered down  to  the  Everett  for  dinner,  and  was  wondering 
what  I  was  going  to  do  with  myself  when  the  thought  of 
the  Burney  House  suggested  a  refuge.  What  snug  quar- 
ters you've  got  here !    The  place  seems  to  me  marvellously 


THE  BURNEY   HOUSE  1 35 

restful.  I  suppose  it's  because  I  like  beautiful  things — 
beautifully  placed." 

Thallon  glanced  as  he  spoke  about  the  spacious  north 
room  which  had  once  been  the  Burney  best  parlor.  The 
ghosts  of  the  departed  Burneys  might,  perhaps,  have 
failed  to  recognize  it  in  the  glory  of  those  aesthetic  appoint- 
ments with  which  the  perfect  taste  and  seemingly  unlim- 
ited means  of  its  present  tenant  had  filled  it  to  overflowing ; 
but  it  had  a  touch  of  its  ancient  primness  and  staid  decorum 
lingering  about  it  yet,  in  spite  of  its  Persian  rugs,  its  Jap- 
anese cabinets,  and  the  hooka. 

The  pleasing  jumble  of  old  furniture  and  rare  knick- 
knacks  which  filled  this  interior  was  not  too  prominent, 
but  faded  away  into  delightfully  dusky  corners.  A  small 
upright  piano  finished  in  black  oak,  with  its  attendant  piano 
lamp  of  wrought  iron,  faced  the  divan,  a  litter  of  sheet 
music  on  the  floor  before  it.  A  bookcase,  but  partially 
filled  with  charming  examples  of  the  bookbinder's  art,  was 
half  hidden  behind  some  drapery.  At  the  further  end  of 
the  room,  toward  which  both  men  had  turned  their  backs, 
a  door  opened  into  a  wide,  old-fashioned  hall.  Beyond, 
the  open  front  door  of  the  old  house  showed  a  vista  of 
a  rambling  porch  and  a  dusty,  sun-bathed  street. 

Thallon  had  wandered  over  to  the  bookcase,  and  was 
handling  with  the  reverential  touch  of  a  reader  a 
dainty  volume  of  Swinburne  he  had  just  taken  from  an 
upper  shelf.  Rossetti,  the  two  Brownings,  and  a  fascinating 
edition  of  Omar  Khayyam  lay  beside  them.  A  moment 
later  he  had  laid  down  the  Swinburne  and  picked  up  this 
limpid  lyric  of  the  mysterious  East,  opening  it  at  random, 
and  reading  the  first  lines  his  eye  lit  upon,  half  aloud,  half  to 

himself :  — 

"  The  moving  finger  writes  ;  and  having  writ, 
Moves  on  ;  nor  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit 
Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  line, 
Nor  all  your  tears  wash  out  a  word  of  it." 


136  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Hullo !  You  know  how  to  read  the  Rubaiyat,"  Reggie 
put  in  delightedly,  —  "  how  to  hold  your  breath  on  that 
blank  line  so  that  the  last  breaks  like  a  roller  on  the  beach. 
Isn't  it  musical  ?  " 

"  Very  ;  but  it's  wretched  stuff, "  Thallon  said  as  he 
put  back  the  volume  with  restless  impatience.  "  As  if  we 
were  not  always  rewriting,  always  blotting  out,  the  work 
of  other  men." 

Reggie  looked  distressed  and  a  trifle  puzzled. 

"Of  course  he's  referring  to  fate,"  he  began  slowly. 

"  And  what  is  fate  .-•  The  action  and  counteraction  of 
countless  wills  —  the  strongest  wins.  Who's  to  say  which 
is  the  strongest  will  until  we  try  ?  " 

At  five  and  twenty  Thallon  was  still  young  enough  to 
enjoy  hearing  himself  talk  like  that  —  although  at  the 
moment  he  was  completely  earnest,  perfectly  sincere. 
Reggie,  three  years  his  junior,  had  never,  in  that  sense, 
been  young.  He  had  never  felt  any  desire  to  inquire  into 
motives,  to  seek  for  causes,  or  to  probe  beneath  the  surface 
of  things  with  a  boy's  anxiety  to  learn  the  "  reason  why." 
In  his  cradle  he  had  obtained  his  necessary  nourishment  by 
the  simple  expedient  of  calling  for  it,  and  he  had  employed 
the  same  expedient  to  satisfy  his  more  complex  require- 
ments ever  since. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  going  to  argue  about  metaphysics,"  he 
said  amiably.  "  I  love  Omar  for  his  music  as  I  love 
everything  beautiful.  My  only  quarrel  with  life  is  that 
I'm  not  allowed  to  enjoy  it  in  the  perfectly  simple  and 
altogether  delightful  way  in  which  you  are  enjoying  my 
curios." 

Reggie's  eyes  were  following  Thallon  as  he  moved 
slowly  from  one  object  to  the  next.  An  expression  of 
gratified  pride  was  discernible  in  their  owner's  frank,  boy- 
ish face.  If  there  were  any  side  of  the  impressionable 
Reggie  more  sensitive   than  the  rest  of    him  to  outside 


THE  BURNEY   HOUSE  1 37 

influence,  it  was  his  dependence  on  the  appreciation  of 
others  in  matters  concerning  his  own  faultless  taste  in 
house  decoration.  He  could  stand,  and  had  stood  with 
equanimity,  ruthless  criticism  of  his  best  canvases,  but  no 
one  had  ever  dared  to  tell  him  that  his  rooms  were  badly 
arranged.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  other  man  that  he 
had  perceived  this  almost  instantly,  and  had  gratified  the 
whim  almost  with  his  first  words. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  it,"  Reggie  went  on  with  one  of  his 
sunniest  smiles,  "  If  you  have  time  some  day,  I'll  take  you 
over  the  old  house.  I've  got  my  sleeping  quarters  upstairs. 
After  a  fashion  I've  managed  to  make  the  place  decently 
habitable,  so  that  if  I'm  to  be  tied  to  Brockton,  I  don't  see 
that  I  could  have  done  much  better.  Of  course  my  taking 
my  meals  at  the  Everett  is  more  or  less  of  a  nuisance,  but 
I  get  over  the  difficulty  to  a  certain  extent  by  dropping  in 
pretty  frequently  at  Elmhurst.  To-day,  Leverson  being 
away  and  no  yachting  going  on,  I  fell  back  on  my  own 
resources,  which  has  resulted  very  pleasantly,  thanks  to 
you." 

"  You  mustn't  let  me  interrupt  your  work,"  Thallon  said, 
turning  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  a  heavy  easel  support- 
ing, a  large  canvas,  which  had  been  rolled  into  a  corner, 
and  a  carved  teak-wood  table  beside  it  with  its  litter  of 
palette,  brushes,  and  twisted  tubes  of  color. 

**  Oh,  you  needn't  worry.  It's  not  one  of  my  good  days. 
I've  spoiled  everything  I've  touched  so  far;  so  if  you  inter- 
rupt me,  your  advent  will  be  a  positive  assistance.  By  the 
way,  Where's  Leverson  gone  ? " 

"  I  haven't  the  faintest  idea." 

"  Humph !  He's  not  apt  to  be  mysterious  —  leaky  as 
a  sieve  as  a  rule." 

"  Perhaps  so.  Still  I  imagine  there  are  limits  to  his 
confidence.  All  I  know  is  he  took  the  ten-fifteen  down  train 
yesterday  morning,  and  I  only  know  that  because  he  drove 


138  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

down  to  the  station  as  I  was  coming  up,"  Thallon  returned 
with  a  suggestion  of  weariness  in  his  voice  again.  "  You 
don't  mind  my  looking  at  your  work  ? "  he  went  on  with 
more  animation  as  he  changed  the  subject.  "  I  had  an 
impression,  received,  I  think,  from  Mrs,  Lindley,  that  you 
were  a  landscape  painter,  but  I  see  you  don't  confine  your- 
self to  that." 

"  Oh,  I  dabble  in  almost  anything,  as  the  spirit  moves," 
Reggie  nodded.  "That  head  over  there,  painted  a  year 
ago,  is  the  best  thing  I've  done,  though  that's  not  saying 
much,"  he  added  with  becoming  modesty. 

"  Yes,  I  noticed  that  as  soon  as  I  came  in,  —  that  tall, 
dark  girl  with  the  fine  eyes.  You're  fortunate  to  have 
found  such  a  model  in  Brockton.     Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  Louise  Dupre  —  a  mill-hand  in  one  of  the  shoe  fac- 
tories. You're  quite  right,  an  almost  perfect  model,  but 
as  cranky  as  the  devil.  I  made  that  study  at  an  hour's 
sitting  and  never  got  her  to  pose  again.  That  class  have 
a  prejudice  against  it,  and  then  it's  hard  to  get  them  after 
working  hours.  She  ought  to  have  been  glad  to  earn  a 
little  money,  for  they're  desperately  poor.  Like  his  daugh- 
ter, Antoine  Dupre  is  extremely  picturesque,  but  he  has 
the  disadvantage  of  irregular  habits.  When  drunk,  I 
believe  he  beats  the  girl  and  makes  things  generally 
unpleasant." 

"  I've  noticed  her  on  the  street  several  evenings  since 
I've  been  in  Brockton,"  Thallon  said  slowly.  "  It's  a  face 
one  doesn't  forget  easily.  In  her  everyday  faded  caUco, 
as  you  have  her  here,  she's  simply  perfect;  but  when  I 
saw  her  this  morning  at  the  railroad  station  in  her  best 
clothes,  she  was  not  at  all  impressive." 

"  In  her  best  clothes  ?  What  in  the  world  was  she  doing 
in  her  best  clothes  at  that  time  of  day  .'' " 

"  She  got  on  the  seven-thirty  train." 

"  Great  Scott !     She  must  have  inherited  a  fortune.     I 


THE  BURNEY   HOUSE  1 39 

believe  old  Dupr^  claims  descent  from  a  long  line  of  barons, 
and  perhaps  she's  gone  to  claim  the  title.  I've  seen  a  good 
many  women  with  titles  who  couldn't  carry  them  off  as 
well.  I  suppose  in  prudence  she  should  have  stuck  to  days' 
wages,  though  I  confess  to  a  fellow-feeling  for  her  there. 
I've  a  prejudice  against  days'  wages  myself,  and  a  sneak- 
ing belief  that  Louise  the  queenly  was  made  for  something 
better,  wherein  she  doubtless  agrees  with  me.  What  a 
delightful  world  this  would  be  if  we  all  had  our  deserts !  " 

"  Perhaps  some  of  us  wouldn't  come  out  so  well.  Here 
I  am  with  a  half  holiday  which  I'm  by  no  means  sure  I've 
earned,"  laughed  Thallon,  "  all  of  which  I  owe  to  a  judi- 
cious reticence  developed  by  Mr.  Leverson  as  to  his  where- 
abouts." 

"  I've  never  noticed  the  trait  in  him  before,  but  there's 
no  question  about  its  being  in  the  family,"  Reggie  said 
gravely,  relinquishing  the  hooka  and  stuffing  a  cushion 
under  his  head.  "  It's  strong  in  the  old  lady,  —  Miss 
Laurie,  I  mean,  —  and  was  marked  in  John  Leverson. 
But  you  never  met  him." 

"  If  I  haven't,  I've  made  up  for  it  hearing  a  great  deal 
about  him.  Dr.  Lindley,  for  example,  seems  to  have  re- 
garded him  as  something  quite  out  of  the  common." 

"  Oh,  naturally !  He  consulted  Lindley  a  good  deal 
about  the  housing  of  the  mill-hands,  and  Lindley  likes  to 
be  consulted.  Personally  I  can't  say  I  loved  him  dearly. 
I  think  it  came  from  my  wasting  three  months  painting 
his  portrait  the  summer  before  he  died.  I  never  felt  he 
treated  me  quite  fairly  about  that.  His  going  off  so  sud- 
denly knocked  me  out  of  an  almost  dead-sure  thing.  Then 
later,  when  we'd  had  a  chance  to  pull  things  together  as 
it  were,  I  had  an  idea  that  Ashton  would  want  to  buy  the 
thing  out  of  brotherly  affection.  Well,  it  was  a  disastrous 
speculation,  like  most  of  my  little  ventures.  Ashton  hadn't 
enough  brotherly  affection,  and  didn't  want  to  buy  it." 


140  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  Have  you  got  the  portrait  here?  " 

"  No,  thank  Heaven  !  I  disposed  of  it  a  week  ago  —  at 
a  sacrifice,  of  course.  You'd  never  guess  to  whom.  White- 
law,  of  all  men,  took  a  fancy  to  it,  —  offered  me  two  hun- 
dred, which  I  was  too  poor  to  refuse.  Of  course  Leverson 
ought  to  be  ashamed  to  let  it  go  out  of  the  family,  but  as 
he  isn't,  I  hadn't  any  choice.  John  Leverson,  as  a  model, 
was  nearly  as  erratic  as  Louise  Dupre.  From  some  queer 
crochet  he'd  got  into  his  queer  head  he'd  never  sit  until 
I  corralled  him  for  this  particular  canvas.  He  fought  shy 
of  art,  even  the  inoffensive  photographer  who  does  you  up 
nicely  at  three  dollars  a  dozen,  to  whom  most  of  his  class 
succumb  sooner  or  later." 

Thallon  seemed  much  amused,  though  also,  as  Reggie 
thought,  a  little  disappointed. 

"  What  could  Mr.  Whitelaw  possibly  want  with  a  por- 
trait of  John  Leverson  ? "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  you  know  he  was  closely  connected  with  him  in 
business.  I  suppose  he  must  have  had  some  affection  for 
him,  though  the  affections  are  not  exactly  in  Randal 
Whitelaw's  line." 

"  He  seems  to  have  succeeded  in  suppressing  this  form 
of  their  expression  for  some  two  years  or  more,"  Thallon 
laughed. 

"  Well,  he's  made  up  for  it  gracefully.  He  came  down 
here  the  other  day  quite  set  on  possessing  this  treasure. 
Not  that  I  suppose  it's  all  sentiment ;  Whitelaw  likes  a 
bargain,  and  he's  got  enough  artistic  sense  to  know  that 
when  he  got  hold  of  this  thing,  he'd  struck  something  as 
cheap  as  wall-paper.  Anyway,  he  really  seemed  very  keen 
on  it ;  wanted  even  the  photographs  —  some  prints  I  had 
taken  to  send  Leverson  who  was  in  Europe  at  the  time 
the  picture  was  painted  —  a  sort  of  advertising  card  which 
brought  in  no  returns." 

Thallon  had  been  filling  his  brier  pipe  as  his  entertainer 


THE  BURNEY   HOUSE  I4I 

rambled  on,  a  smile  of  appreciation  softening  the  rather 
hard  lines  of  his  square  jaw,  but  at  this  juncture  a  sudden 
thought  seemed  to  strike  him.  He  set  down  the  pipe  un- 
lighted,  and  looked  across  at  Reggie  with  noticeably  height- 
ened interest. 

"  I  should  really  have  liked  to  have  seen  it,"  he  said 
slowly.     "  Did  Mr.  Whitelaw  take  all  the  photographs  ? " 

"  As  far  as  I  know.  I  rummaged  round  and  gave  him 
all  I  could  find.  His  interest  in  the  thing  was  certainly 
flattering.  Seemed  to  regard  his  new  possession  as  a  sort 
of  resurrection  of  his  old  friend." 

Thallon  nodded  his  appreciation  of  the  most  becoming 
sentiment  on  Whitelaw's  part. 

"  It  was  evidently  an  artistic  success,  a  good  likeness, 
and  all  that,"  he  hazarded. 

"Well,  it  hardly  becomes  me  to  say,"  Gilbreed  rejoined 
with  a  deprecating  wave  of  the  hand,  though  he  was  evi- 
dently flattered  at  the  other  man's  absorption  in  his  work. 
"  However,  I  don't  mind  claiming  it  was  the  best  thing  I'd 
done  in  the  way  of  portraiture  at  the  time,  though  that 
rough  study  of  the  peerless  Dupr6,  done  some  time  after, 
has  finer  feeling  in  it,  because  it  was  done  with  an  alto- 
gether purer  motive.  The  Leverson  portrait  was  nothing 
better  than  a  conscientious  life  study,  and  even  at  that  I 
was  more  or  less  handicapped.  The  poor  man  insisted 
upon  being  painted  in  a  black  frock-coat  with  a  high  collar, 
which  I  imagine  he  must  have  inherited  in  the  Leverson 
direct  male  line.  Still,  do  his  best,  he  couldn't  spoil  that 
head  of  his ;  crisp,  wiry  hair  of  iron  gray,  though  he  was 
short  of  forty-five,  crowning  a  face  which  had  something 
of  the  old  Roman  type  about  it,  —  rugged,  yet  delicately 
and  sharply  cut  like  a  cameo.  No  one  to  have  seen  him 
would  have  imagined  that  the  man  stood  in  mortal  terror 
of  that  eminent  woman,  Miss  Laurie,  though  I  happen  to 
know  he  did." 


142  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  You  pique  my  curiosity,"  Thallon  said,  taking  up  the 
pipe  again,  and  reaching  across  the  table  toward  a 
bronze  monster,  whose  wide-open  jaws  obHgingly  dis- 
gorged matches.  "  I  must  ask  Mr.  Whitelaw  to  let  me 
see  the  portrait  as  you  have  no  more  photographs  of  it. 
I've  an  idea  that  I  shall  like  it  much  better  than  your 
Louise  Dupr6." 

Thallon 's  eyes  were  fixed  moodily  on  the  portrait  of  the 
girl,  Gilbreed's  on  the  face  of  his  visitor,  in  a  lazy  effort 
to  make  out  this  curious  enthusiasm  for  a  work  of  art  the 
critic  had  not  as  yet  been  permitted  to  see,  when  at  that 
mention  of  the  name  a  low  hissing  sound,  like  the  sharp 
indrawing  of  human  breath,  caused  both  young  men  to 
turn  abruptly  toward  the  door  behind  them,  from  whence 
it  came. 

"  Ah  !  Louise  Dupre.  Who  it  iss  makes  talk  av  Louise 
Dupr6.?" 

The  spoken  words,  and  the  figure  in  the  doorway,  which 
seemed  responsible  for  them,  were  both  startling  enough, 
preceded  as  they  had  been  by  no  warning  footsteps  in  the 
little  hall  beyond,  and  were  doubly  startling  that  their 
harsh  abruptness  had  something  sinister  and  hostile 
about  it. 

Reggie  was  naturally  the  first  to  adjust  himself  to  this 
unforeseen  interruption,  changing  the  object  of  his  specu- 
lations so  easily  that  he  seemed  to  drop  every  vestige  of 
interest  in  the  Leverson  portrait  on  the  advent  of  this  new 
apparition. 

"  Why,  it's  Dupre !  "  he  exclaimed,  swinging  himself 
into  a  sitting  posture,  "  come  in  answer  to  my  prayers  to  sit 
for  that  masterpiece  that  is  to  make  our  names  go  down 
the  ages  in  a  blaze  of  crimson  glory.  But  who's  the  other 
gentleman  ? " 

The  owner  of  the  foreign  voice,  whose  sharp  features 
were  not  rendered  more  engaging  by  a  grizzled  mustache 


THE  BURNEY  HOUSE  1 43 

and  goatee  nearly  concealing  the  mouth,  was  standing  in 
the  doorway,  his  shabby,  soft  felt  hat  drawn  down  over 
his  brows  in  defiance  of  good  manners.  Directly  behind 
him  a  second  figure  had  caught  Reggie's  attention  in  the 
brighter  light  of  the  old  hall ;  a  commanding  figure,  in  curi- 
ous contrast  to  the  repulsive  ugUness  of  the  French  Cana- 
dian, on  whose  shoulder  he  laid  a  gently  restraining  hand 
as  he  came  forward  in  answer  to  Reggie's  question. 

"  You  will  excuse  our  abruptness,"  he  said  in  a  clear, 
though  carefully  modulated  voice,  as,  hat  in  hand,  he  bowed 
slightly  to  the  two  gentlemen,  "  but  your  hall  is  so  softly 
carpeted,  and  this  room  is  so  beautiful,  that  one  enters  it 
quietly  as  if  in  the  presence  of  sacred  things.  It  is  a 
place  for  beautiful  thoughts.  You  must  be  very  happy 
here,"  he  added  simply,  letting  his  eyes  wander  dreamily 
from  the  soft  color  of  the  Eastern  rugs  to  the  nasturtiums 
in  the  window.  Then,  suddenly,  and  with  a  visible  effort, 
he  seemed  to  put  the  mood  behind  him.  Dreamer  of  beau- 
tiful dreams  he  might  be,  but  he  was  something  more.  The 
gray  eyes  were  very  serious,  almost  stern,  as  he  turned 
them  upon  the  owner  of  all  this  luxury. 

"  The  object  of  our  visit,  sir,  is  a  sad  and  very  pressing 
one,^or  we  would  not  interrupt  you,"  he  went  on  with  per- 
fect courtesy,  though  in  a  crisper  tone.  "  To  be  brief,  my 
friend  here,  Antoine  Dupr6,  is  in  great  trouble  through 
the  disappearance  since  last  night  of  his  daughter  Louise. 
I  am  assisting  him  in  his  search.  An  hour  ago  it  occurred 
to  him  that  as  at  one  time  she  had  sat  here  to  be  painted, 
she  might  again  have  come  for  the  same  purpose.  The 
question  is  answered  almost  in  the  asking  —  she  is  not 
here." 

"Vy  make  you  soo  sur'  ov  dat.''"  the  small  man  here 
broke  in  with  the  rapid  eagerness  of  speech  so  far  charac- 
teristic of  him,  the  eagerness  of  an  ill-suppressed  passion, 
of  an  active  hostility  kept  with  difficulty  within  bounds. 


144  THE  BEATEN    PATH 

"  He  will  not  as  yet  haf  said  she  vas  not  here,  even  now  it 
vas  dis  odder  gentleman  use  her  name.     Vy  ? " 

"  We  were  speaking  of  the  portrait  yonder,  which  your 
friend  just  now  referred  to,"  Thallon  said,  finding  the 
man's  intensely  brilliant  eyes  fixed  on  him  in  an  imper- 
ative demand  for  an  explanation  which  Reggie  for  the 
moment  seemed  inclined  to  ignore.     "Perhaps  I  can — " 

"  We  can  help  you  in  nothing,  except  by  a  few  sugges- 
tions dictated  by  common  sense  — "  Reggie  here  broke  in 
with  a  brusqueness  most  unusual  with  him.  "The  girl  is 
either  in  Brockton,  in  which  case  you  will  doubtless  see 
her  by  night,  or  she  has  left  it  by  one  of  two  possible  ways. 
Of  course  you've  had  the  sense  to  inquire  at  the  railway 
station  ? " 

"  Directly  she  was  missed,  —  that  is  to  say,  late  this 
morning,"  Dupr^'s  companion  answered  promptly  while 
he  fixed  his  eyes  searchingly  on  the  artist's  face.  "  She 
has  not  been  seen  or,  at  least,  recognized  there." 

"There  are  two  river  boats;  she  might  have  gone 
either  up  or  down  the  river." 

"  Both  have  been  tried  with  the  same  result." 

"  Then  why  worry  ?  She  could  not  have  gone  down- 
stream on  a  lumber  tow  without  attracting  attention,  and 
she  could  not  have  walked  without  being  almost  certain  to 
meet  some  one  she  knew.  She  is  probably  safe  in  Brock- 
ton and  will  turn  up  when  she  gets  ready.  If  I  know  any- 
thing of  Louise  Dupr6,  she  is  a  young  woman  who  prefers 
to  consult  her  own  convenience  as  to  her  movements.  If 
my  memory  doesn't  very  much  mislead  me,  this  is  not  the 
first  time  she  has  absented  herself  without  asking  per- 
mission." 

"  You  are  a  devil ! "  Dupre  snorted,  glaring  at  the  boy 
savagely.  "  But  what  you  say  iss  true ;  she  go  off  once 
befo'  an'  I  beat  her,  an'  she  swear  she  nevar  do  it  aga'n. 
How  you  know  dat } " 


THE  BURNEY   HOUSE  I45 

"  You're  not  at  all  polite,  so  that  it's  quite  enough  that 
I  do  know  it,"  Reggie  returned,  recovering  his  usual  ease 
of  manner  under  the  stimulus  of  this  attack.  "  In  spite  of 
my  being  a  devil,  as  you  put  it  so  gracefully,  I  sincerely 
wish  I  could  assist  you  in  your  search,  but  owing  to  cir- 
cumstances quite  beyond  my  control,  unhappily  I  can't. 
And  now,"  he  went  on,  dismissing  the  glowering  Dupre  with 
an  airy  wave  of  the  hand  and  addressing  his  companion 
directly  for  the  first  time,  "  I  really  would  like  to  know  your 
name.  Your  face  is  new  to  me,  and  I  know  most  faces 
about  Brockton.  If  I'm  not  much  mistaken,  you're  a  new- 
comer. I  myself  have  been  away  some  months  and  only 
returned  lately." 

"  My  name  is  Meyer,  sir,  —  Johann  Meyer." 

The  answer  was  simplicity  itself,  but  there  was  a  sig- 
nificance in  its  very  simplicity,  as  he  kept  his  quiet  eyes 
fixed  on  the  face  of  this  glib-spoken  young  man.  Thallon, 
who  was  watching  them  both  closely,  saw  Reggie's  face 
flush  under  the  look.  He  was  apparently  much  less  at 
his  ease  in  confronting  this  mild-eyed,  gentle  stranger  than 
with  the  tempestuous  Dupr6. 

Thallon,  for  his  part,  made  no  effort  to  come  to  the  boy's 
assistance.  He  had,  with  obvious  purpose,  been  put  out 
of  the  game,  and  he  could  now  very  well  afford  to  see 
the  rest  of  it  played  out  without  any  interference  from 
him. 

"  Behol',  den  ve  go,"  Dupr6  here  remarked  with  a  dra- 
matic gesture  and  that  persistent  defiance  in  the  intonation 
of  his  harsh  voice  which  implied  that  if  he  liked  he  should 
come  back  again.  "  You  haf  not  seen  —  you  do  not  know } 
Bah  !  Yet  some  von  haf  seen  —  some  one  know.  An'  I 
too  vill  know  —  an'  he  shall  rot  in  his  grave  ;  but  I  vill  haf 
de  truf  from  him  !  " 

Again  Dupre's  words,  quite  unintentionally  on  his  part, 
seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  putting  Reggie  at  his  ease, 


146  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

though  he  had  dropped  his  usual  levity.  His  answer, 
though  hopeful,  was  serious  enough. 

"  I  wouldn't  go  and  put  a  painful  construction  on  this 
thing,"  he  said  in  French.  "  It's  the  worst  service  you  could 
do  your  daughter  —  a  young  woman  I,  for  one,  hold  in 
high  respect.  Search  for  her  urgently,  by  all  means,  and 
if  I  can  help  you,  command  me,  but  draw  no  hasty  conclu- 
sions, mention  no  names,  and  breathe  no  threats.  They 
can  do  neither  her  nor  you  any  good,  believe  me." 

Antoine  Dupre  received  this  admonition  with  a  snort  of 
angry  impatience.  Meyer's  face,  on  the  contrary,  lit  up 
with  a  soft  light  as  he  nodded  his  fine  head  in  acquiescence. 
Thallon,  as  he  noted  the  touch  of  quiet  dignity  in  the  boy's 
manner,  as  remote  from  his  usual  easy  levity  as  light  from 
darkness,  shot  him  a  glance  very  nearly  akin  to  admiration. 
If  he  were  playing  a  part,  he  was  certainly  playing  it  well. 
In  any  case,  this  last  remark  of  his  seemed  to  leave  noth- 
ing more  to  be  said.  With  a  courtesy  he  could  not  have 
exceeded  had  he  been  ushering  out  some  of  his  best  cus- 
tomers, Reggie  saw  the  visitors  to  the  door,  Dupre  still  in 
untamed  savagery,  Meyer  quiet  as  usual,  but,  as  Reggie 
thought,  with  a  questioning  look  in  the  depths  of  those 
deep  gray  eyes  of  his. 

At  the  door  the  preacher  glanced  significantly  at  the 
figure  of  the  elder  workman  who  had  preceded  them  down 
the  gravel  walk  to  the  gate  over  which  he  now  leaned  list- 
lessly while  he  waited  for  his  companion. 

"You  must  not  judge  him  harshly,"  Meyer  said  in  a  low 
voice ;  "  the  child  was  everything  to  him.  He  has  not 
learned  to  suffer  patiently  —  is  quick  to  place  his  wrongs 
at  the  door  of  another  class.  You  were  right  in  warning 
him  against  that  —  but  —  is  the  right  all  on  one  side  ?  " 

"  How  can  I  tell .'' "  Gilbreed  answered  absently,  for,  in 
truth,  this  man's  presence  had  its  fascination  for  him, 
which  held  him  in  spite  of   his  desire  to  be  quit  of   the 


THE  BURNEY  HOUSE  I47 

subject  still  omnipresent  in  the  preacher's  thoughts.  "All 
I  know  is  it's  a  class  he  very  cordially  hates." 

"  Yes.  God  forgive  us,  there  is  still  hatred  between  man 
and  man  —  the  survival  of  a  time  of  struggle  which  should 
have  been  long  past  by  now,"  Meyer  said  slowly,  his  eyes 
still  upon  Dupr^.  "  Well,  the  field  is  large  and  there  are 
few  workers,  but  the  turning  is  in  sight  and  the  end,  praise 
God,  is  sure !  The  Power  which  makes  for  righteousness 
never  sleeps.  Let  each  do  but  a  modicum  of  his  share  and 
even  we  might  see  God." 

If  the  words  had  been  in  the  Hebrew  tongue,  which 
would  have  suited  their  deep-toned  earnestness,  they 
could  not  have  been  less  intelligible  to  the  boy.  They 
moved  him  solely  by  their  cadence,  as  he  would  have  been 
moved  by  the  tones  of  a  great  organ.  The  artist  in  him 
was  thrilling  with  emotion  as  he  stood  there  on  the  porch 
of  the  old  Burney  House  looking  down  upon  this  man. 

A  shaft  of  brilliant  sunshine  just  touched  the  dark  brown 
hair  as  he  raised  his  hat  respectfully  at  parting.  It  seemed 
to  crown  the  head  like  a  nimbus,  to  frame  the  entire  face 
in  a  soft  halo,  as  it  played  here  and  there  through  the 
wavy,  reddish  beard,  making  little  waves  of  warm,  rich 
color. 

''AVhat  a  beautiful  idea,"  the  boy  said,  coloring  with 
pleasure,  "  and  how  charmingly  you  carry  it  out !  Some 
day  I  want  you  to  let  me  paint  you." 

"  You  feel  the  beauty  of  the  thought,  yet  it  is  not  real  to 
you,"  Meyer  said  searchingly,  ignoring  the  request. 

"  Real !  How  can  pure  poetry  ever  be  real  .••  "  the  boy 
answered,  smiling.  "  Our  most  charming  fancies  would 
tire  us  in  a  day  if  we  really  believed  in  them." 

"  God  does  not  wait  for  us  even  to  believe  in  Him  before 
He  leads  us,"  Meyer  said  wistfully.  "  He  not  only  gives  us 
infinite  love,  but  infinite  patience." 

The  man  paused  as  if  for  some  response ;  then,  with  a 


148  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

slight  gesture,  not  of  impatience  but  of  relinquishment,  as 
if  he  knew  further  words  were  useless,  he  turned  to  go. 

"  I  thank  you,  sir,  for  your  kindness,  and  wish  you  all 
success  in  your  beautiful  calling.  Good  day,"  he  said 
gravely. 

That  overpowering  desire  to  paint  him  as  he  stood  there 
had  such  possession  of  Reggie's  artistic  soul,  that  for  the 
moment  he  forgot  everything  else.  If  he  had  longed  to 
paint  Dupre  as  the  personification  of  some  avenging  pas- 
sion, the  face  before  him  appealed  to  him  as  the  realization 
of  some  great  redeeming  beauty.  The  man  had  actually 
gone  before  he  realized  that  he  had  stared  him  out  of  the 
house  in  stupid  silence  without  any  acknowledgment  of 
his  parting  salutation.  He  shook  himself  together  with  an 
effort,  trying  to  concentrate  his  mind  on  the  object  of  the 
preacher's  visit  and  the  part  he  had  given  himself  to  play 
in  it.  Like  most  impressionable  people,  Reggie  had  the 
faculty  of  throwing  himself  from  the  fervor  of  one  absorb- 
ing situation  into  the  pleasing  intricacies  of  the  next. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


PIETY   AND   WIT 


When  Reggie  got  back  into  the  long  room  under  the 
north  light,  he  seemed  to  have  quite  recovered  his  usual 
careless  manner,  to  have  left  behind  him  all  that  warmth 
of  poetic  fancy  in  the  torrid  zone  of  the  front  porch.  He 
glanced  at  Thallon,  wondering  what  conclusion  he  might 
have  reached  as  to  his  own  purpose  in  the  late  passage 
at  arms,  but  that  gentleman  was  far  too  much  a  man  of 
the  world  to  gratify  his  curiosity.  He  politely  ignored 
an  episode  of  which  he  had  been  an  involuntary  witness, 
leaving  his  host  at  liberty  to  ignore  it  likewise  should  he 
be  so  disposed. 

"  I  haven't  been  rummaging,"  he  began  cheerfully, 
holding  up  a  small  white  object  from  his  place  on  the 
other  side  of  the  table,  —  "  at  least,  not  much.  I  found  it 
underneath  this  pile  of  books." 

"  Blessings  on  us,  what  is  it  ? "  Reggie  asked,  not  with- 
out a  touch  of  weariness. 

"  A  photograph  of  the  Leverson  portrait.  It's  distinctly 
good ;  you've  caught  the  pose  of  the  head  and  the  set  of 
the  shoulders  especially  well." 

This  remark  struck  Reggie  as  a  second  well-meant  in- 
anity, but  he  had  other  things  on  his  mind  and  so  let  that 
pass.  Thallon  moved  over  into  the  strongest  light  of  the 
great  north  window,  all  his  quick,  energetic  movements  in 
sharp  contrast  to  the  dejected  listlessness  of  his  entertainer. 
He  was  holding  the  small  piece  of  cardboard  at  arm's- 

149 


I50  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

length,  his  face  slightly  flushed,  evidently  intensely  in- 
terested. 

"  I'm  very  glad  to  have  seen  it,"  he  went  on,  without 
looking  up.  "  I  could  not  have  afforded  to  have  bought 
the  picture,  but  I'd  really  like  to  buy  this  if  you  won't 
take  the  suggestion  as  an  impertinence.  I've  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  it;  can't  you  be  prevailed  upon  to  part 
with  it.?" 

Reggie  had  crossed  the  room  and  was  now  glancing  over 
Thallon's  shoulder  in  reawakening  curiosity. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  he  said  deprecatingly,  screwing 
up  one  eye.  "The  thing  tones  better  in  the  photograph 
than  in  the  portrait.  The  canvas  itself  lacks  color.  I'm 
almost  sorry  I've  sold  the  thing  to  Whitelaw.  It  would 
have  served  Leverson  right  if  I'd  had  it  hung  in  the  Town 
Hall.  Couldn't  have  done  it  through  the  Colonel,  because 
his  engineering  the  job  would  have  smelt  of  corruption, 
but  I  might  have  done  something  through  Lindley.  Well, 
—  it's  too  late  now.  Whitelaw's  got  his  grip  on  it,  and  it's 
not  a  grip  that  ever  loosens." 

There  was  a  curious  snap  in  Thallon's  eyes. 

"  He  can  have  what  he's  got  and  welcome,"  he  remarked, 
his  eyes  still  on  the  photograph.  "  What  I  want  is  this 
little  print.  You  must  let  me  have  it  on  any  consideration 
you  choose  to  mention." 

"  Oh,  as  far  as  I  go,  you're  welcome  to  it,  as  you've  taken 
the  trouble  to  find  it,"  Reggie  said.  "Strictly  speaking, 
I  suppose  it  belongs  to  Whitelaw,  as  the  owner  of  the  por- 
trait. As  you  like  it  so  much,  I  wish  you  had  that  also. 
As  for  paying  me  for  it,  that's  quite  out  of  the  question. 
This  is  strictly  a  wholesale  house,  we  give  away  samples. 
Be  sure  and  show  it  to  Mrs.  Lindley  to  convince  her  I  '  do 
portraits.' " 

"As  you  will  then,"  Thallon  laughed,  as  he  slipped 
the  photograph  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  coat. 


PIETY  AND  WIT  151 

He  seemed  absurdly  pleased,  Reggie  thought,  over  this 
modest  acquisition.  Reggie's  own  mind  was  very  much 
absorbed  at  the  moment  with  something  of  much  greater 
importance,  —  a  matter  about  which  he  would  not,  perhaps, 
have  sought  the  other  man's  confidence  had  providence  or 
fate  not  already  landed  him  halfway  into  it.  Reggie  did 
a  good  many  things  by  halves,  but  his  confidences  were 
usually  thorough.  Besides,  he  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
this  young  fellow,  within  a  year  or  two  of  his  own  age,  and 
above  and  beyond  all,  he  sadly  needed  advice. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I  think  it's  as  well  not  to  mention 
this  Dupr^  escapade,"  he  began  abruptly.  "  I  suppose 
you  think  it  odd,  my  cutting  you  short  when  you  were 
starting  them  on  the  right  track.  I'll  admit  it  did  seem 
rather  brutal." 

"  I've  no  doubt  you  had  excellent  reasons  for  it,  though 
your  having  them  doesn't  really  concern  me,"  Thallon 
remarked  with  caution.  He  had  glanced  curiously  at 
Reggie,  at  his  first  mention  of  the  name. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  as  little  doubt  what  they  are." 

"  You  do  my  powers  of  penetration  more  than  justice. 
I  could,  of  course,  imagine  several  motives;  it  did  not 
strike  me  as  necessary  I  should  choose  between  them." 

'"You  are  certainly  chivalrous!  Under  like  circum- 
stances, in  your  place  I  should  either  have  looked  for 
some  explanation  or  have  drawn  conclusions  not  altogether 
flattering." 

"  As  long  as  you  care  to  mention  it,  let  me  be  perfectly 
frank,"  Thallon  answered,  smiling.  "  I'll  admit  that  for 
an  instant  an  explanation  occurred  to  me  which  was  not  at 
all  flattering  to  you.  It  was  nothing  more  than  an  impulse 
of  the  moment  —  I  rejected  it  almost  instantly." 

♦•  Why .? " 

"  Because,  on  second  thought,  you  don't  come  up  at  all 
to  my  idea  of  a  rascal." 


152  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Thanks !  And  that  leaves  you  face  to  face  with  a 
second  conclusion  hardly  less  disagreeble." 

"  I  can  only  think  of  one  other  man  you  would  go  great 
lengths  to  shield." 

"  It  isn't  the  other  man,"  Reggie  said  in  a  voice  so 
strained  that  Thallon  hardly  recognized  it  as  his.  "  It's 
the  other  woman  !  " 

Thallon  started  and  took  an  involuntary  step  toward 
the  speaker.  There  was  a  perceptible  pause  before  he 
answered. 

"  If  any  silence  or  any  words  of  mine  can  help  you 
there,  you  can  count  them  wholly  at  your  service." 

"  It's  not  a  subject  one  usually  cares  to  discuss,"  Reggie 
returned  with  a  touch  of  embarrassed  apology.  "  But  it's 
useless  to  ignore  the  thing  with  you.  You  could  hardly 
spend  six  weeks  in  the  Leverson  household  without  pene- 
trating the  Gilbreed  mistake.  The  only  thing  that  sur- 
prises me  is  that  you  should  care." 

"  In  a  way  it  surprises  me ;  I'm  a  cold  stick,  wrapped 
up  in  my  own  interests,  my  own  aims.  Yet  there  are 
limits.  Sacrifices  we  can  hardly  see  carried  to  a  logical 
consummation,  standing  by  in  cold  blood  like  a  Greek 
chorus  chanting  an  appropriate  accompaniment.  You, 
of  course,  have  felt  this  instinctively,  —  could  not  fail  to 
feel  it,  —  holding,  as  you  do,  the  privilege  of  defending 
her.  Well,  you've  not  been  found  wanting.  You've 
already  taken  the  first  step  to  shield  her." 

"  And  of  what  earthly  use }  We've  tied  her  to  him 
hand  and  foot  out  of  pure  selfishness,  and  now  I  sit  down 
and  cry  about  it.  Of  course  I  was  too  young  at  the  time 
to  realize  the  full  significance  of  what  she  was  asked  to  do, 
but  there's  no  use  playing  the  baby  act.  I've  profited  by 
the  connection  ever  since,  and  would  have  profited  more  if 
I  could.  Oh,  my  God,  what  a  brute  I  am !  "  poor  Reggie 
ended  with  a  groan. 


PIETY  AND  WIT  1 53 

"The  moving  finger  writes  ;  and  having  writ, 
Moves  on  ;  nor  all  your  Piety  nor  Wit 
Shall  lure  it  back  to  cancel  half  a  line, 
Nor  all  your  tears  wipe  out  a  word  of  it." 

Thallon  quoted,  smiling.  "  But  you  see  I'm  not  a  fatalist 
and  believe  in  struggling.  That  man  Meyer  probably 
would  fall  back  on  his  piety ;  I  instinctively  use  my 
wits.  The  thing  is  very  far  from  hopeless.  Let  me 
help  you." 

He  instinctively  held  out  his  hand.  Reggie  grasped  it, 
noticing  how  cool  and  firm  it  felt, — his  own  hand  shook 
so  disgustingly, 

"  I'm  not  acting  on  mere  suspicion,"  he  went  on  hur- 
riedly, pouring  into  Thallon's  ear  facts  he  might  have 
hesitated  long  before  sharing  with  his  own  father  —  so 
completely  had  this  newcomer  taken  possession  of  him. 
"  Of  course  no  one  ever  supposed  him  to  be  immaculate. 
There  are  always  things  which  one  has  to  shut  one's  eyes 
to  with  a  man  like  that.  Heaven  knows,  I'm  not  straight- 
laced,  nor  are  we  male  Gilbreeds  especially  noted  for  put- 
ting too  fine  a  point  on  our  morals ;  but  there  are  things 
we  don't  do,  nor  like  done  in  too  close  touch  with  us. 
No !  But  this  of  all  things  —  and  in  a  town  like  Brock- 
ton w^iere  his  wife's  family  have  lived  all  their  lives  — 
where  the  very  walls  of  his  own  house  would  ring  with  it ! 
My  God,  Thallon,  there's  only  one  thing  to  do !  Thrash 
him!     And  I'll  do  it,  too!" 

A  humorous  picture  of  the  ponderous  Leverson  being 
thrashed  by  the  light-limbed,  graceful  Reggie,  relieved  for 
the  instant  the  strain  on  Thallon's  nerves.  Thallon  him- 
self, with  his  six-feet-two  of  athletic  bone  and  muscle,  — 
the  latter  at  the  moment  so  tensely  drawn  that  his  great 
bulk  swayed  slightly,  —  looked  better  fitted  for  the  task, 
which  might  not  have  been  uncongenial.  He  suppressed 
the  smile  almost  upon  his  lips.      It  was  so  evident  that 


154  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

the  boy  was  not  bragging  ;  there  was  so  much  genuine 
feeling  under  his  angry  nervousness  that  it  was,  after  all, 
quite  easy  to  take  him  seriously. 

"I  wouldn't  do  that,"  Thallon  said  with  perfect  gravity. 
"To  paraphrase  your  own  words  to  Dupre,  it  would  be 
the  worst  service  you  could  do  your  sister." 

"  Oh,  it's  much  easier  to  give  good  advice  than  take  it," 
Reggie  groaned.  "  While  I  was  talking  all  that  goody- 
good  bosh  to  Dupr6,  I  knew  perfectly  well  if  I'd  been  in 
Dupr^'s  place,  I  would  have  killed  the  man.  Do  you  think 
he  will  kill  him  ?  " 

"  It  has  got  to  be  guarded  against.  Your  first  move 
was  well  taken.  Meyer,  I  think,  suspects,  and  so  does 
Dupre,  but  he  is  a  clumsy  brute  who,  once  off  the  track, 
will  hardly  get  on  again  without  help.  I  am  certain  he 
will  get  no  help  from  Meyer  —  a  man  not  likely  to  rectify 
one  wrong  by  conniving  at  another.  There  is  no  other 
way  out  of  it;  you  will  have  to  trust  Meyer." 

"  How  can  that  give  me  any  hold  over  Leverson  .-'  He's 
bided  his  time  until  my  hands  were  tied,  damn  him  !  " 

"  How  tied  }     I  don't  understand  you." 

"Because — because — I've  been  fool  enough  to  bor- 
row money  of  him,"  the  boy  said  desperately.  "  I  thought 
this  thing  had  blown  over ;  Leverson  was  at  his  best,  and 
I  was  even  harder  up  than  ever.  He  told  me  a  week  or 
two  ago  that  he'd  had  a  run  of  luck  in  some  business  mat- 
ter and  offered  me  the  money  —  twenty-five  hundred.  I  had 
it  from  him  just  before  he  left  and  squared  everything  up, 
and  he's  got  my  note  for  it.     Oh,  I  might  have  known  !  " 

"You  could  not  in  any  case  have  touched  him.  The 
man  has  a  genius  for  shielding  himself  behind  petticoats," 
Thallon  put  in  bitterly.  "  But  there  are  other  ways  of 
going  to  work,  and  work  you  must  if  this  thing  is  to  be  kept 
quiet.  Leverson' s  name  is  not  yet  connected  with  this 
thing,  and  it  shan't  be  if  you  and  I  can  help  it." 


PIETY  AND   WIT  1 55 

"  Help  it !     How  can  we  help  it  ? " 

"  Well,  to  begin  with,  there's  the  girl  herself." 

As  he  spoke  Thallon  instinctively  glanced  toward  the 
portrait  which  hung  on  the  opposite  wall.  The  face  which 
looked  down  upon  him  from  its  dark  background  did  not 
look  like  a  promising  field  for  influence.  The  eyes  were 
large,  brilliant,  and  a  trifle  scornful ;  the  lips,  though  beau- 
tifully curved,  were  firmly  set ;  the  carriage  of  the  head 
was  as  unyielding  as  fate  ;  there  was  no  refinement  in 
its  beauty,  but  it  was  a  face  capable  of  love  —  and 
hate. 

"  She's  the  very  devil,"  the  boy  said  with  much  disgust 
as  he  followed  Thallon's  glance. 

"  She's  a  woman  perhaps  not  altogether  carried  away 
by  the  glitter  of  the  Leverson  gold.  Anyway,  I'd  try. 
You  could  trace  her  easily  enough,  for  you  know  Lever- 
son's  city  haunts,  and  you  will  have  the  advantage  of  carry- 
ing on  your  fight  outside  Brockton  limits.  When  you've 
once  found  her,  I'm  much  mistaken  if  Meyer  does  not 
prove  useful.  You  can  see  the  man's  got  their  confidence, 
—  papists,  atheists,  or  whatever  else  they  may  be,  —  and  if 
she  comes  back  with  him,  it  will  be  a  better  guarantee 
of  f%jr  play  than  anything  else  could  be.  It  will  not  be 
necessary  for  you  to  appear  in  the  matter  at  all.  He  can 
go  by  a  later  train  and  meet  you  in  the  city.  Yes,  —  de- 
cidedly, —  you  must  have  Meyer." 

"  I  don't  very  much  like  the  idea,"  Reggie  said,  getting 
to  his  feet  and  taking  a  few  restless  strides  up  and  down 
the  room.  "  How  can  I  discuss  with  a  man  of  his  class  a 
question  touching  my  family  as  this  does .-'  " 

"  For  that  you'd  better  thank  the  man  who's  made  it 
necessary.  If  he  has  cared  so  little  as  to  drag  her  name 
before  a  gaping  public,  we  must  do  our  best  to  shield  it. 
I  know  no  better  way  than  this.  Meyer  already  suspects; 
if  we  employ  him,  we  insure  his  silence." 


156  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Thallon's  frequent  "  wes  "  and  "  ours  "  passed  unno- 
ticed ;  he  had  so  identified  himself  with  the  situation. 

"Very  well,"  Reggie  acquiesced  after  a  pause,  "but 
I  hardly  know  how  to  go  to  work.  I'm  not  much  on 
the  pious  myself,  and  I  never  know  what  to  say  to  those 
people.     Could  you  see  him  and  tell  him  what  we  want  ?  " 

"Certainly.  I'll  go  at  once,  while  you  get  ready  for 
the  start ;  get  a  bite  of  supper  at  the  hotel,  and  leave  by 
the  eight-thirty." 

"And  if  we  win,  what  good  will  it  do — to  Madge,  I 
mean  .-•  The  world  is  large  enough  and  there  are  plenty  of 
others.  It's  only  a  question  of  time  before  he  breaks  with 
her  and  disgraces  her." 

A  curious  expression  crossed  Thallon's  face. 

"  I  would  not  be  too  sure  of  that.  If  there's  any  break 
at  all,  it  may  come  from  her,  not  him.  All  I  ask  of  you  is 
to  do  the  best  you  can  now  and  leave  the  rest  to  me." 

"  I  must.  You've  almost  made  me  feel  there's  a  chance 
of  my  doing  something.  But  one  thing's  certain,  —  if  I 
quiet  this  thing  down,  I'll  have  it  out  with  Leverson  after- 
wards !  " 

The  boy  spoke  with  increased  animation.  Suddenly  his 
face  fell  again.  "  I  haven't  got  over  fifty  dollars.  The 
rest's  gone,"  he  said,  looking  at  Thallon  with  comic 
despair, 

"  I  can  let  you  have  one  hundred — my  month's  salary," 
the  latter  rejoined  cheerfully.  "  I  know  of  no  better  use 
for  the  Leverson  money." 

Reggie  went  over  to  him  and  laid  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

"Any  one  would  know  you  were  a  Penn  Grad,"  he  said, 
beaming  benignly  on  this  new-found  ally.  "I'll  take  it  in 
a  good  cause.  I'm  doing  this  thing  for  the  best  woman 
who  ever  lived,  with  possibly  one  exception,  and  if  I  suc- 
ceed I  shall  owe  it  to  you.    Of  course  she  can  never  know,  — 


PIETY  AND  WIT  1 57 

can  never  thank  you, — but  you're  not  the  kind  of  a  man 
who  cares  for  thanks.  That's  where  you're  stronger  than 
I  am  ;  I  do." 

The  boy  did  not  notice  that  the  hand  of  the  other  man, 
as  he  replaced  the  unsmoked  brier  pipe,  paused  an  instant 
as  if  something  in  the  remark  held  his  attention.  Reggie 
was  too  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts  to  notice  it  just  then, 
and  to  all  appearance  Thallon's  were  quite  on  the  surface 
when  he  took  his  departure  a  few  moments  later. 

He  left  with  the  assurance  that  Reggie  should  have  the 
money  within  two  hours,  and  strode  off  in  the  direction  of 
the  Everett. 

Reggie  was  late  getting  to  the  hotel  supper  room,  where 
he  found  Thallon's  place  vacant.  Inquiring  eagerly  of  his 
particular  friend,  the  waitress,  he  learned  that  his  confeder- 
ate had  finished  his  supper  and  gone  out  some  time  since, 
and  he  further  elicited  the  information  that  he  had  been 
writing  before  supper  time  in  the  hotel  office. 

Without  knowing  exactly  why,  he  felt  strangely  depressed 
on  hearing  this,  when,  turning  ^t  the  sound  of  a  firm  foot- 
step on  the  bare  floor  behind  him,  he  caught  sight  of  the 
Penn  Grad. 

"  It's  in  this  envelope,"  the  latter  said  without  preface. 
"  Do  you  get  off  on  the  eight-thirty  as  agreed  ? " 

"Yes,"  Reggie  said,  taking  the  envelope  with  a  nod 
and  a  Uttle  guttural  sound  intended  to  convey  thanks. 
Then,  lowering  his  voice,  he  asked  with  a  note  of  anxiety 
new  to  him,  "  By  the  bye,  have  you  got  Meyer  all  right  .^ " 

"  He  follows  you  on  the  ten-fifteen.  I  only  wish  I  were 
going  with  you,  but  as  that  can't  be,  good-by,  and  success 
to  you,"  Thallon  said  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Couldn't  you  come  down  to  the  station  ?  You  might 
think  of  something  to  suggest,  I  could  absorb  any  amount 
of  suggestion." 

"  I  think  not.     The  more  quietly  you  go  the  less  likeli- 


158  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

hood  of  gossip,  and  no  one  knows  better  than  yourself 
what  to  do.  Detach  the  girl  from  Leverson,  if  possible, 
without  his  knowing  your  agency,  and  place  her  out  of  his 
reach  under  Meyer's  protection.  He'll  know  some  place 
where  she'll  have  some  woman's  petticoats  to  shield  her. 
If  she  cuts  up  rusty,  cut  her  adrift  from  Leverson  at  all 
costs,  and  let  her  go  to  the  devil  in  any  other  way  she  likes. 
You'll  know  how  to  manage ;  but  at  worst,  if  the  thing's 
prolonged,  write, — and  if  I  can  help  you,  I'll  come. 
Good  night." 

After  leaving  Reggie,  Owen  Thallon  walked  slowly 
across  to  the  Brockton  post-office  and  posted  a  letter. 
There  was  a  moment's  hesitation  just  before  he  dropped 
it  into  the  box,  for  it  was  a  rather  important  letter,  written 
on  the  spur  of  the  moment  that  afternoon.  He  was  not 
completely  sure  how  far  it  connected  itself  with  this  other 
matter,  but  in  some  way  it  had  brought  back  to  his 
mind  Margaret  Leverson's  face  —  some  fancied  expres- 
sion which  had  made  him  hesitate. 

As  he  went  back  to  the  hotel,  he  told  himself  it  was 
absurd.  Why  should  she,  of  all  women,  question  the 
purity  of  his  motive  in  first  coming  to  Brockton,  —  in  any- 
thing he  had  done  since }  If  she  had  known,  would  she 
not  have  been  the  last  to  condemn  the  righting  of  a  per- 
sonal wrong  he  owed  to  others,  as  well  as  to  himself  .■' 
By  Heaven  !  Did  he  not  owe  it  to  her  most  of  all  ?  She 
had  wrongs  enough  to  right;  of  that  there  was  small 
question. 

But  the  argument  was  of  no  avail  in  wiping  out  that 
impression  of  her  which  had  made  him  hesitate  before 
posting  the  letter.  Her  influence  was  already  strong 
enough  for  that,  though  as  yet  it  would  have  taken  more 
to  turn  him  from  his  purpose.     He  /lad  posted  the  letter. 


CHAPTER   XV 


DANGEROUS    GROUND 


"I've  come  to  take  the  babies  for  a  drive,"  Margaret 
said,  leaning  forward  a  little  on  the  seat  of  her  pony  phae- 
ton, so  as  to  bring  her  face  more  on  a  level  with  Mrs. 
Lindley's  as  that  lady  stood  on  the  lower  step  of  the  Lind- 
ley  piazza.  "  You  needn't  stop  to  get  them  into  their  best 
clothes.  They  look  very  nice  as  it  is,  and  only  need  hats 
as  a  finishing  touch.  I  suppose  the  older  ones  are  at 
school,  or  I'd  gladly  take  the  entire  family.  It's  such  a 
perfect  morning." 

"  Well,  I  do  declare !  You  cert'nly  are  good !  You 
don't  mean  to  say  you  drove  in  on  purpose !  "  Mrs.  Lind- 
ley  ejaculated,  a  puzzled  wrinkle  on  her  usually  clear 
brow.  "  Of  course  it'll  be  no  end  of  a  help  to  me,  Vic- 
toria being  busy  washing,  as  she  always  is  on  Wednes- 
days." 

"  Why  doesn't  she  wash  Mondays } "  Margaret  asked, 
startled  out  of  her  usual  caution  by  this  rank  domestic 
heresy  on  the  part  of  the  Lindley  household. 

"She  begins  Mondays,"  Mrs.  Lindley  rejoined  with 
that  invariably  amiable  and  explanatory  wave  of  her  small 
white  hands  with  which  she  was  accustomed  to  meet  chal- 
lenges of  this  character,  "  and  she  ends  according  to  the 
best  of  her  powers  and  resources,  as  the  Doctor  puts  it,  — 
that  is  to  say,  generally  Wednesdays.  So  you  see  she's 
more  help  to  me  the  rest  of  the  week,  when  she's  ironing." 

"Yes,  I  see,"  said  Margaret,  smiling. 

159 


l60  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"As  for  the  babies  they're  right  here  now,"  Mrs.  Lind- 
ley  went  on,  turning  to  those  ever  present  infants  who 
were  closely  following  the  trend  of  this  conversation  from 
the  shelter  of  the  piazza.  "  You'd  like  to  go  driving  with 
Mrs.  Leverson  and  a  real  carriage  and  pony,  wouldn't 
you  ?  " 

The  resolution  being  thus  properly  submitted,  it  was  at 
once,  and  without  any  useless  formaUty,  carried  unanimously 
by  what  might  have  been  called  a  standing  vote,  —  the 
electorate,  until  now  seated  on  the  door-mat,  getting  to 
its  legs  and  howling  joyfully. 

Margaret's  laugh,  as  she  saw  them  carried  off  in  high 
glee  for  what  Mrs.  Lindley  called  "  cleaning-up,  "  was  very 
genuine.  Within  the  last  few  weeks  the  girl  had  found 
several  channels  through  which  her  own  unrest  could  find 
some  natural  outlet.  Her  afternoons,  still  given  unreserv- 
edly to  Mobray  Doniphan,  was  one  of  them ;  mornings  spent 
like  this  were  helping  her  wonderfully.  If  Ashton  Lever- 
son's  frequent  absences  from  home  without  any  special 
leave-taking  or  explanation  had  added  anything  to  her 
sense  of  relief,  she  had  allowed  herself  to  enjoy  even  that 
without  analysis.  She  was  very  young  and  hope  was 
natural  to  her. 

After  all  she  did  not  ask  very  much,  —  certainly  not 
any  brilliant  career  of  her  own  choosing.  Despite  her 
vigorous  will  and  her  woman's  love  of  influence,  it  was 
through  some  other  will  stronger  than  her  own  —  if  she 
had  only  known  it  —  that  in  working  out  what  was  best 
in  herself  she  would  have  worked  most  happily.  It  was 
there  that  Mobray  Doniphan  had  helped  her,  though  as 
she  had  never  recognized  the  need,  she  was  not  fully  con- 
scious of  this  source  of  its  partial  satisfaction. 

She  had  at  least  regained  some  of  her  old  serenity. 
As  she  sat  there  in  the  pony  phaeton,  the  smile  which  had 
faded  from  her  face  had  left  it  very  calm.      The  day  it- 


DANGEROUS  GROUND  l6l 

self  was  beautifully  calm  and  still —  so  still  that  she  started 
slightly  at  the  sound  of  quick  footsteps  on  the  gravel 
of  the  drive  behind  her,  followed  an  instant  later  by  the 
mention  of  her  own  name,  as  the  author  of  the  footsteps 
paused  on  the  farther  side  of  the  phaeton. 

Her  face  lit  up  with  a  genuine  pleasure  quite  new  in  her 
relationship  with  Owen  Thallon  as  she  recognized  him  ; 
he  looked,  somehow,  so  refreshingly  young  and  vigorous ; 
he  seemed  to  fit  so  perfectly  into  the  spirit  of  the  day  and 
her  own  mood. 

"You  are  really  very  much  of  a  stranger,"  she  said,  smil- 
ing, without  the  prefix  of  any  formal  greeting.  "  I  haven't 
seen  you  at  Elmhurst  for  at  least  three  days." 

"  I  have  been  there  every  day  inside  working  hours," 
he  said  gravely. 

"  Then  why  haven't  you  come  in  to  lunch  ?  "  she  asked 
in  a  surprise  which  was  obviously  genuine.  "  I  did  not 
suppose  it  was  necessary  to  keep  on  asking  you." 

"  I  usually  go  without  lunch.  It  saves  time,"  he  re- 
turned, not  caring  to  meet  those  honest  eyes  of  hers. 
Even  she  would  know  that  his  work  just  then  was  any- 
thing but  exacting. 

I'  I  did  not  mean  to  press  you,"  she  said  with  a  quick 
change  of  manner  as  she  saw  the  fiimsiness  of  his  excuse, 
"  nor  to  reproach  you  with  deserting  us." 

"Wasn't  that  what  you  wanted  me  to  do  ?"  he  asked, 
looking  up  at  her  suddenly  and  throwing  more  meaning 
into  the  words  than  they  need  have  carried. 

She  was  all  kindness  again  in  an  instant  because  she 
saw  something  had  hurt  him. 

"  I  thought  it  for  your  own  best  interests  to  begin  work 
elsewhere,  though  I  said  at  the  time  I  wouldn't  have  you 
do  so  simply  because  I  suggested  it,"  she  said  earnestly. 
"  I  wanted  you  to  see  it  yourself  as  I  saw  it,"  she  went 
on,  fixing  her  frank  eyes  upon  him  with  undisguised  in- 

M 


1 62  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

terest.  "  Do  you  seriously  mean  that  you  have  been  able 
to  do  that  ?  " 

There  was  still  an  embarrassment  in  his  manner  from 
which  hers  was  so  markedly  free.  He  did  not  answer  her 
question  directly. 

"  I  think  I  acknowledged  at  the  time  that  you  were 
more  or  less  in  the  right  about  it,"  he  returned  slowly,  look- 
ing down  at  the  coarse  gravel  of  the  drive,  which  he  was 
shovelhng  into  little  piles  with  the  toe  of  his  boot.  "  I  sup- 
pose I  put  as  much  sincerity  into  my  confession  as  most 
miserable  sinners,  and  perhaps  it's  already  borne  more 
fruit  than  human  repentance  usually  produces.  Perhaps 
it's  hardly  worth  mentioning,  but  I  have  started  some  small 
outside  interests,  and  my  work  at  Elmhurst  now  is  re- 
duced to  purely  clerical  lines." 

Though  he  spoke  slightingly  in  this  reference  to  him- 
self, the  irony  of  his  tone  was  rather  forced  than  natural, 
an  undercurrent  of  intense  seriousness,  —  something  which 
was  almost  an  appeal  for  her  continued  interest  caught 
her  quick  ear  in  spite  of  it.  Owen  Thallon,  no  less  in  his 
weakness  than  at  his  best,  was  the  kind  of  man  she  could 
understand. 

"  I  think  you  have  been  very  wise,"  she  said  slowly,  for 
she  was  weighing  her  words,  anxious  to  thank  him  without 
bringing  in  any  further  discussion  of  her  husband's  affairs. 

"May  I  ask  about  this  new  venture }  " 

"  Surely  you  if  any  one,"  he  said,  dropping  all  pretence 
and  answering  her  tone  as  well  as  her  words.  "  It's  some 
newspaper  work  I  got  from  Ridley  of  the  Transcript,  —  a 
series  of  articles  on  Labor  and  Politics, — more  likely,  I'm 
afraid,  to  suit  that  radical  publication  than  your  taste  in 
such  matters,  Mrs.  Leverson.  I  brought  the  last  one 
down  this  morning  to  consult  the  Doctor  as  to  its  avail- 
ability. The  Doctor's  been  very  good  to  me,  as  you 
know." 


DANGEROUS  GROUND  1 63 

Without  meaning  it  he  had  touched  the  girl's  sensitive 
conscience. 

"  He  had  faith  in  you  from  the  first,"  she  said  wistfully, 
thinking  of  her  own  caustic  criticism,  and  how  Thallon  had 
repaid  it  with  an  honest  effort  to  place  his  life  on  what  she 
had  considered  better  lines. 

It  was  such  a  gracious  thing  to  have  done  —  an  act  of 
chivalrous,  masculine  homage  which  touched  her  the  more 
nearly  because  it  was  so  new  to  her.  In  her  twenty  years 
of  life  she  had  not  lacked  admiration  from  many  different 
men,  but  none  of  them  had  ever  done  this  one  thing, 

Thallon,  on  his  side,  had  his  own  twinges  as  he  saw  the 
thought  in  her  transparent  face.  He  remembered  Reggie's 
remark  of  yesterday,  that  he  was  not  the  kind  of  a  man  to 
care  for  a  woman's  thanks.  He  had  let  the  assertion  go 
without  protest,  but  he  knew  now  how  untrue  it  was ;  the 
thrill  of  elation  that  was  tingling  through  his  nerves,  as  he 
caught  the  expression  in  her  eyes,  told  him  that  plainly 
enough. 

She  had  leaned  forward,  as  if  to  add  something  to  what 
she  had  already  said,  when  they  were  interrupted  by  the 
opening  of  the  Lindleys'  front  door  and  the  appearance  of 
Mrs.  Lindley  and  her  younger  progeny,  —  the  last  named 
shining  with  infantile  smiles  and  a  recent  application  of 
soap  and  water,  and  gorgeously  arrayed  in  purple  and  fine 
linen. 

"  I  just  couldn't  let  'em  go  as  they  were,"  the  faded  little 
woman  announced  triumphantly,  "  so  I  had  to  wait  until 
Victoria'd  ironed  out  their  white  piques.  Ned's  is  a  trifle 
damp  in  the  back  and  the  starch's  a  bit  lumpy,  so  he'd  better 
sit  up  straight  till  he  dries,  which  won't  be  long  when  he 
gets  into  the  sun  ;  'cause  if  he  doesn't,  it'll  stick  to  his  skin. 
Dear  me !  —  I  beg  pardon,  here's  Mr.  Thallon,  come  to 
see  the  Doctor,  I  reckon.  He's  got  a  patient  in  the  con- 
sulting room,  but  he'll  be  through  shortly.     You  might 


l64  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Step  into  the  parlor  and  wait,  Mr.  Thallon,  if  you've  got 
time." 

But  Thallon,  who  in  all  his  numerous  calls  upon  the 
Doctor  had  never  submitted  himself  a  second  time  to  the 
enervating  atmosphere  of  the  Lindley'best  parlor,  now 
made  his  usual  excuse  that  his  boots  were  in  no  condition 
to  enter  those  sacred  precincts,  preventing  argument  of 
the  point  by  vigorously  assisting  in  the  stowing  away  of 
the  younger  Lindleys  on  the  seat  beside  Mrs.  Leverson. 

In  the  midst  of  the  excitement  attendant  thereon  (each 
younger  Lindley  being  keenly  anxious  to  drive,  and  each 
having  to  be  accommodated  with  some  of  the  surplus  reins, 
which  happy  expedient  devised  by  Margaret  left  them 
under  the  hallucination  that  they  were  assisting  at  that 
performance),  he  caught  her  eyes,  which  were  dancing  with 
the  humor  of  the  moment.  Perhaps  there  was  something 
reproachful  in  his  that  she  could  so  easily  have  passed 
from  her  former  mood  into  the  Lindley  comedy ;  but  in 
any  case,  her  face  grew  grave  again,  and  she  held  out 
her  hand  to  him  at  parting  —  something  she  had  never 
done  before. 

"  I  wish,  sometime,  you  would  let  me  see  the  articles. 
I  can't  help  feeling  a  sort  of  proprietorship  in  them," 
she  said  kindly. 

All  that  was  best  in  him  seemed  to  come  to  the  surface 
as  he  touched  the  firm  gloved  hand  that  was  offering  him 
her  friendship.  That  hard,  bitter  side  of  him,  which  had 
been  uppermost  yesterday  when  he  had  spoken  of  Louise 
Dupr6,  sank  out  of  sight  —  even  out  of  his  own  memory. 

Life  to  Owen  Thallon  had  been  little  more  than  a  hard 
struggle.  Through  it  all,  until  now,  he  had  pinned  his 
faith  on  no  one  but  himself.  Things  might  have  been 
so  different  if  he  had  only  known  her  sooner.  Beyond 
that  he  did  not  stop  to  consider  whither  he  or  she  were 
drifting,  —  conscious  only  of  something  in  her  voice  and 


DANGEROUS  GROUND  16$ 

touch  which  had  moved  him  unspeakably,  and  responding 
to  it  instinctively,  as  a  child  might  have  done.  Yet  he 
was  no  child,  except  in  the  sense  that  all  men  are  childish 
when  they  are  most  selfish.  If  he  did  not  even  then 
realize  the  danger  which  threatened  him  and  her,  it  was 
largely,  perhaps,  because  he  shut  his  eyes  to  it. 

"  I  want  your  help  above  all  things ;  I  was  not  even 
waiting  for  you  to  offer  it,"  he  managed  to  say  in  a 
lowered  tone  and  hastily,  for  she  had  already  nodded 
smilingly  to  Mrs.  Lindley  and  was  turning  the  pony's  head 
down  the  drive. 

There  was  a  chorus  of  good-bys  from  the  departing 
infants  as  they  drove  off  which  had  to  be  answered  by 
Mrs.  Lindley,  who  was  evidently  in  the  best  of  spirits. 

"Ain't  she  just  splendid.!*"  that  lady  remarked  with 
enthusiasm.  "  If  I  ever  said  money'd  spoiled  Margaret  Lev- 
erson,  I  take  it  all  back  now.  Seem's  if  she'd  just  laid  her- 
self out  to  put  me  in  the  wrong  ever  since  I  said  it.  She's 
been  down  here  any  number  of  times  this  last  three  weeks, 
an'  not  to  see  the  Doctor,  neither,  'cause  she  hardly  ever 
goes  inside ;  but  just  to  do  little  kindly  things  like  this,  to 
sort  o'  help  things  along.  Now  you  take  to-day,  —  it'll  give 
me  a  clear  two  hours  on  the  Doctor's  shirts.  They're  go- 
ing (freadful  'round  the  bosoms.  The  Doctor's  awful  hard 
on  his  shirts." 

As  if  in  answer  to  this  challenge,  the  Doctor  himself 
appeared  just  then  at  the  front  door,  ushering  out  a 
patient. 

"  Now  you  mind  what  I  say,  Slathers."  (The  Doctor  was 
laying  down  the  law  with  severe  emphasis.)  "You  keep 
better  hours,  take  less  beer,  and  leave  agitating  alone  for  a 
time,  and  your  lungs  will  be  the  better  for  it.  Take  that 
stuff  I've  given  you  three  times  a  day,  and  don't  talk  so 
much.     That's  my  advice  to  you." 

This  admonition  was  so  far  acted   upon  that  the  man 


1 66  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

made  no  audible  response,  contenting  himself  with  a  surly 
nod  of  acquiescence  as  he  slouched  down  the  foot-path 
which  led  to  the  front  gate,  keeping  his  eyes,  in  passing, 
fixed  upon  Thallon  rather  than  the  Doctor. 

Though  the  latter  had  seemingly  been  absorbed  in  his 
case,  his  first  words  after  the  case's  departure  proved  that 
he  had  overheard  Mrs.  Lindley's  last  remark. 

"  Don't  you  believe  a  word  she  says,"  he  began  genially, 
as  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Thallon.  "  I'm  not  in  the  least 
hard  on  my  shirts.  It's  the  other  way  about,  —  my  shirts 
are  deuced  hard  on  me.  I  see  you've  come  for  a  pow- 
wow, which  is  so  much  the  better,  as  you're  the  very  man 
I  wanted  to  see.  As  luck  will  have  it,  I've  got  another 
thirty  minutes  of  office  hours,  and,  for  a  wonder,  no 
patients.  Come  into  the  sanctum  and  have  a  cigar.  If 
the  next  patient's  a  maiden  lady,  I  shall  lose  her  practice, 
but  it's  worth  risking." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

COUNTER-CURRENTS 

Thallon  presently  found  himself  in  one  of  the  Doctor's 
cane-seated  chairs  beside  the  wide-open  office  window, 
which  commanded  a  view  of  Mrs.  Lindley's  flower  garden 
at  the  side  of  the  house.  A  clump  of  hollyhocks  had  pushed 
their  brilliant  red  and  yellow  heads  above  the  level  of  the 
sill,  out  of  a  tangle  of  sweet  peas  and  mignonette  just  below. 
Among  them  a  few  bees  hummed  sleepily  in  the  warm  sun- 
shine, though  in  the  shade  the  air  was  still  tempered  by  the 
freshness  of  early  morning. 

Thallon  took  one  of  the  black,  dangerous-looking  cigars 
the  Doctor  offered  him,  turning  it  over  absently  between  his 
fingers  before  lighting  it.  He  was  wondering  why,  if  Lind- 
ley  could  afford  to  smoke  such  good  cigars,  he  could  not 
afford  to  keep  another  servant.  Thallon,  at  the  moment, 
was  very  thoughtful  about  women.  Mrs.  Lindley's  being 
over\<^orked  had  never  troubled  him  before. 

Although  this  moral  awakening  (to  other  people's  short- 
comings) was  not  likely  to  interfere  with  his  enjoyment  of 
the  Doctor's  tobacco,  it  marked  an  epoch  in  Thallon  worthy 
of  note.  Three  months  before,  when  he  had  entered  this 
same  room  as  a  waif  and  stray,  without  social  responsibili- 
ties, the  thought  would  not  have  occurred  to  him. 

He  had  certainly  made  some  progress  since,  and  stood 
on  somewhat  different  ground.  This  room,  which  had 
always  been  connected  in  his  mind  with  that  period,  some- 
how forced  him  into  drawing  mental  comparisons  between 
what  he  had  been  then,  and  what  he  was  now. 

167 


I 68  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

His  train  of  thought  was  interrupted  by  the  Doctor's 
handing  him  a  lighted  match,  a  transfer  which  requires 
delicate  handhng.  The  Doctor  did  this  very  well,  but  con- 
scious of  the  flight  of  precious  moments,  he  showed  less 
delicacy  in  introducing  the  subject  in  hand. 

"  I  see  you've  brought  me  up  another  article,"  he  began, 
glancing  at  a  roll  of  manuscript  which  Thallon  had  drawn 
from  his  pocket.  "  On  the  same  subject,  I  suppose, 
•Politics  and  the  Labor  Vote'?" 

Thallon  nodded  as  he  lit  his  cigar. 

"  It  seems  the  two  iirst  made  some  little  stir  at  the 
Transcript  office,"  he  said,  coloring  slightly.  "They've 
led  to  more  than  I'd  any  reason  to  expect.  Ridley  has 
offered  me  a  place  as  a  regular  staff  writer.  That's  what 
I've  come  up  to  talk  about." 

"  Living  salary  .■•  "  Lindley  asked,  taking  the  manuscript 
and  running  his  eyes  over  the  first  page. 

"  It  could  be  made  to  do.  Only  about  half  what  I  get 
from  Mr.  Leverson." 

"  But  you  could  combine  the  two,"  the  Doctor  said  with 
conviction. 

"  I  don't  think  so.  If  I  take  this,  I've  got  to  throw  over 
the  Leverson  work.  I've  almost  made  up  my  mind  to 
throw  it  over,  anyway." 

"I'd  think  twice  about  it.  I  wouldn't  kick  out  of  the 
traces  simply  because  I  was  tired  of  being  a  nursery  govern- 
ess.    You've  done  well  by  Leverson ;  everybody  says  so." 

"You  haven't  heard  Mr.  Leverson  say  so." 

"  If  you  want  Leverson's  praises,  you'll  wait  for  some 
time.  As  you  know  very  well,  he  never  praises  anybody. 
His  keeping  you  on  as  he  has  is  proof  enough  that  you 
suit  him.     When  do  you  find  time  to  do  this  writing } " 

"  At  night,  mostly,  though  within  the  last  few  days  I've 
had  more  leisure.    Oh,  I  could  do  the  work  easily  enough," 

"Gosh  Peter!     Then  why  in  common  sense  can't  you 


COUNTER-CURRENTS  1 69 

combine  ? "  The  Doctor  never  used  this  peculiar  form  of 
oath  except  when  deeply  moved.  He  considered  it  per- 
fectly compatible  with  his  moderate  churchmanship. 

"  Why,  don't  you  see  that,  as  soon  as  I  begin  putting  my 
name  to  these  things,  there's  going  to  be  trouble  ? " 

"  I  don't  exactly  see  what  you  mean  by  trouble.  The 
articles  are  very  much  in  harmony  with  my  own  views,  — 
plain  common  sense  with  no  touch  of  sentiment.  A  plea 
that  the  labor  vote  shall  no  longer  be  used  by  a  set  of  poli- 
ticians who  flatter  it  until  they  get  all  it's  got  to  give  and 
then  snap  their  fingers  at  it.  I  don't  think  that  I've  ever 
been  chary  in  saying  the  same  thing,  yet  I  continue  to 
work  for  Leverson." 

"  Not  in  the  same  capacity.  I  don't  wish  to  appear 
rude,  but  if  you  imagine  that  Mr.  Leverson  would  select 
you  as  his  representative  in  Brockton,  holding  the  views 
you  do,  you're  very  much  mistaken." 

The  Doctor  was  not  in  the  least  offended. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  he  remarked  thoughtfully,  rubbing 
the  bridge  of  his  nose  with  his  forefinger.  "  My  quarrel 
with  Leverson  has  always  been  with  his  criminal  laxity. 
I  don't  believe  he's  got  stamina  enough  to  have  any 
prejudices." 

Thallon  smiled  indulgently. 

"  He's  got  instincts.  The  instincts  of  a  class  who,  in 
order  to  realize  an  income  on  their  investments,  are  obliged 
to  employ  another  class.  Naturally,  they  regard  that  class 
from  a  certain  point  of  view,  —  quite  naturally,  also,  they 
object  to  any  other  point  of  view." 

"  My  dear  fellow !  "  the  Doctor  ejaculated,  with  a  jerk 
of  the  head  which  was  not  at  all  indulgent.  "  There  are  a 
hundred  and  fifty  points  of  view.  What  none  of  them  will 
take  is  our  point  of  view,  —  the  working  out  of  an  ideal 
justice  through  a  relative  justice.  The  world  is  divided 
between  idealists  who  want  to  coddle,  and  brutes  who  buy, 


I/O  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

sell,  and  care  not.  Incidentally  there  are  more  brutes  than 
sentimentalists." 

"  What  is  your  relative  justice  .''  "  Thallon  asked, 
smiling. 

"  It  begins  with  decent  housing  and  ends  with  coopera- 
tion. By  the  time  we  reach  that  I  shall  begin  to  call  it 
ideal.  Oh,  you  needn't  smile.  The  thing's  spreading. 
Doniphan's  got  money  enough  to  warp  his  judgment,  but 
he  backs  me  that  far,  though  he's  still  shaky  on  the  Trust 
question.  Even  Leverson,  though  he  may  be  selfish  and 
lazy,  is  not  altogether  illiberal.  You  don't  ask  him  to 
accept  your  views,  much  less  act  on  them;  then  why  in 
reason  should  he  object  to  your  expressing  them  ? " 

"  Much  better  men  than  Leverson  will  object  to  them," 
Thallon  said  slowly.  "  No  one  knows  better  than  you  do 
that  when  we  refer  in  print  to  the  existence  of  classes  in 
America,  we  are  immediately  accused  of  stirring  up  class 
hatred.  No  one  knows  better  the  fallacy  of  the  current 
belief  that  because  we  have  a  system  which  permits  a  man 
to  rise  from  one  class  to  another,  we,  therefore,  have  no 
classes.  The  men  who  have  so  risen  do  their  best  to  widen 
the  breach.  Leverson's  connection  with  the  work  bench 
is  too  close  for  him  to  enjoy  any  assertion  of  its  rights  and 
interests." 

"It  was  not  so  with  John  Leverson,  —  a  man  whose 
hands  were  still  hard  with  the  use  of  tools,"  the  Doctor 
put  in  with  energy. 

"  Ah,  that's  different.  He  was  actually  in  touch  with  it. 
For  the  greater  part  of  the  time  you  knew  him  he  was  still 
a  workman  with  his  origin  written  all  over  him.  As  you 
once  told  me,  he  tried  to  make  his  brother  into  something 
else,  and  he  succeeded  beyond  his  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tions. The  man  hates  the  class  from  which  he  sprang 
with  as  much  fervor  as  a  man  like  Dupre  hates  the  one 
from  which  he  claims  he's  fallen.     Mark  my  words,  as  soon 


COUNTER-CURRENTS  I /I 

as  Leverson  hears  of  this  newspaper  work  of  mine,  he'll 
cut  the  connection  soon  enough.  It  struck  me  I  had  better 
make  the  first  move,  —  that  it  was  a  rather  cleaner  thing 
for  me  to  tell  him  about  it  than  to  wait  until  he  found  it 
out." 

The  Doctor  laid  down  the  manuscript  and  crossed  the 
room,  planting  himself  before  Thallon,  his  hands  thrust 
deep  into  his  coat  pockets,  his  eyes,  under  their  bushy 
brows,  regarding  him  fixedly. 

"  Do  you  know  you're  giving  up  what  you  deliberately 
planned  to  do  three  months  ago  ? "  he  asked,  frowning. 

"  No.  I  told  you  then  this  place  with  Leverson  was 
only  a  stepping-stone  to  something  better,  —  probably 
something  on  these  very  lines." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  but  that's  not  what  I  mean.  You  had  no 
idea  of  making  a  change  like  this  within  three  months,  —  of 
getting  out  of  one  boat  before  you'd  made  sure  the  other 
didn't  leak.     What's  made  you  change  ? " 

Thallon  did  not  care  to  answer  this  question,  so  he  asked 
another. 

"  What  makes  you  want  me  to  stay  with  Leverson  ? " 

"  I  want  you  to  keep  things  there  from  going  to  pieces. 
It  may  seem  queer,  but  I  have  hopes  of  Leverson  if  he 
could  be  kept  in  the  right  hands.  The  Colonel's  are  not 
the  right  kind  of  hands." 

"  Odd !  That's  what  Meyer  seems  to  think,"  Thallon 
ejaculated,  dropping  his  usual  caution. 

"  Gosh  Peter  !  You  don't  mean  to  say  you've  discussed 
this  thing  with  him  !  " 

"  Certainly  not ;  nor  discussed  any  other  thing,  for  that 
matter.  Nevertheless,  I  saw  him  yesterday  under  circum- 
stances which  made  it  natural  for  him  to  mention  Leverson. 
He  seems  to  have  a  great  deal  of  faith  in  Leverson's  ulti- 
mate salvation.  He  gave  me  that  view  of  the  case  quite 
gratuitously,  without  my  asking  for  it.     It  raised  my  esti- 


172  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

mate  of  his  sincerity  of  purpose.  I  can't  say  it  raised  my 
estimate  of  his  judgment." 

"  That  man  puzzles  me,"  the  Doctor  returned  impatiently, 
beginning  to  walk  up  and  down  again.  "  Apparently  com- 
pletely under  the  sway  of  an  emotional  religion,  he  never- 
theless arrives  at  results  in  days  which  it  would  take  me 
weeks  to  work  out  when  I'm  at  my  best.  His  influence 
is  growing  rapidly ;  he'll  be  either  a  great  help  or  a  great 
hindrance  to  my  work ;  I  hardly  know  which." 

"If  you  know  how  to  use  him,  I  should  say  a  great 
help."  Thallon  was  on  the  point  of  adding,  "  I  know," 
but  stopped  himself  in  time. 

"Anyway,  j^z^  can  help  me,"  the  Doctor  said,  returning 
from  his  own  digression,  "  and  you  can  help  me  best  by 
staying  as  long  as  possible  with  Leverson.  The  very  fact 
that  you're  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  away  confirms  my  sus- 
picions that  they're  engineering  some  sort  of  a  scheme 
up  there  which  goes  against  your  stomach.  It's  the  same 
thing  with  Doniphan.  The  only  thing  I  can  get  out  of 
Doniphan  is  that  he's  resigned  from  the  directorate,  and  is 
going  to  sell  his  stock  to  Leverson,  which,  by  the  way,  he 
wouldn't  do  without  much  better  reasons  than  he's  chosen 
to  give  me.  He  says  his  mouth's  closed  as  he  has  his 
information  through  his  former  official  position.  I  suppose 
the  same  thing  applies  to  you,"  the  Doctor  added  almost 
wistfully. 

"  I'm  afraid  it  does,"  Thallon  said,  smiling  up  at  his 
tompanion ;  "  but  you  mustn't  give  me  credit  for  being  so 
very  fastidious.  My  leaving  Mr.  Leverson  has  nothing  to 
do  with  his  business  ventures.  I  want  to  start  this  other 
thing,  which  I  believe  will  clash  with  his  work,  —  that's  all. 
You  see,  I've  got  to  give  Ridley  an  answer  at  once." 

"  I  haven't  asked  you  to  decline  Ridley's  offer.  On  the 
contrary,  I'm  keen  on  your  accepting  it,"  the  Doctor  put 
in  with  returning  impatience.     "  But  it's  not  necessary  to 


COUNTER-CURRENTS  1/3 

throw  the  other  thing  up  until  it  does  clash.  Tell  Leverson 
frankly  what  you  have  done,  and  let  him  cut  the  connection 
if  he  wants  to.  Considering  all  things,  your  pride  might  be 
able  to  stand  that  much." 

Thallon  colored  under  this  remark. 

"  Let  it  go  at  that,  then,"  he  said  rather  moodily.  "  It 
can  do  no  harm  to  wait  a  few  weeks.  By  the  bye,"  he  added 
as  he  rose  to  go,  "  in  reference  to  this  latest  Leverson  devel- 
opment. Has  Mr.  Whitelaw  been  any  more  communicative 
than  the  rest  of  us  ?  " 

"  No,  I  can't  say  he  has ;  but  he's  shown  some  genuine 
interest  in  what  I'm  working  for.  It  was  only  yesterday 
he  was  in  here  to  borrow  a  bundle  of  old  letters  which 
John  Leverson  wrote  me  three  or  four  years  ago  when  he 
was  away  from  Brockton  on  one  of  his  trips.  They  referred 
to  improvements  he  contemplated  making  at  the  mills. 
Whitelaw  thought  he  could  influence  Ashton  in  favor  of 
doing  something  if  he  had  the  letters.  Now  I  call  that 
rather  nice  of  Whitelaw." 

"  Very  nice  indeed,"  Thallon  murmured. 

The  Doctor  looked  at  his  visitor  narrowly.  There  were 
times  when  he  found  it  difficult  to  follow  this  young  man's 
mentjil  processes.  Thallon  saved  him  the  trouble  of  mak- 
ing any  further  effort  in  that  direction  by  asking  :  — 

"  Weren't  those  the  letters  you  were  going  to  lend  me  ? 
You  thought  I  might  be  able  to  use  them  in  connection 
with  this  new  work  of  mine.  A  quotation  or  two  from  the 
source  might  have  helped  along  the  cause,  or,  at  least,  you 
seemed  to  think  so." 

"  I  think  so  still.  I'd  like  you  to  see  them.  You  might 
ask  Whitelaw  to  let  you  have  them  as  soon  as  he's  through 
with  them." 

Thallon  laughed  rather  unnecessarily. 

"I  can  hardly  expect  Mr.  Whitelaw  to  take  quite  the 
same  interest  in  my  work  that  you  do,  Doctor,"  he  added 


174  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

with  a  touch  of  kindliness.  "  You  see  I've  overstayed  my 
time,  as  usual,"  he  went  on,  glancing  at  the  clock. 

"  Well,  anyway,  we  understand  each  other,"  the  Doctor 
said  as  he  followed  his  visitor  to  the  front  steps. 

Thallon  nodded.  "  Yes,  it's  understood  I  accept  Ridley's 
offer.  You'll  look  over  the  manuscript  and  give  me  one 
of  your  best  criticisms.  In  the  meantime,  I'll  hold  on  at 
Elmhurst  as  long  as  I  can.     That's  the  contract,  isn't  it  .-*  " 

The  Doctor  agreed,  and  so  they  parted. 

While  driving  about  on  his  rounds  that  morning,  however, 
Lindley's  sensations  were  not  altogether  satisfactory. 

"  That  boy  pumps  me  dry  whenever  we  meet,"  he  said 
to  himself  with  some  indignation,  "  and  all  the  time  he 
keeps  his  own  mouth  shut  tight  as  an  oyster.  Gosh  Peter ! 
There's  such  a  thing  as  being  too  blamed  mysterious." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

BROCKTON   JUNCTION 

On  the  following  Sunday  Thallon  felt  at  liberty  to  in- 
dulge himself  in  a  long  walk  into  the  country.  Though  he 
had  been  to  St.  Stephen's  several  times  since  his  advent  in 
Brockton,  he  was  by  no  means  a  regular  church-goer,  and 
his  having  gone  there  at  all  was  perhaps  more  connected 
with  the  view  of  Mrs.  Leverson's  back  hair  obtainable  from 
the  free  seats,  than  with  any  sense  on  his  part  of  spiritual 
emptiness  or  any  intellectual  longing  for  Mr.  Faucon's 
eloquence. 

His  impressions  of  the  sanctity  of  the  Brockton  Sab- 
bath were  not  enhanced  just  now  as  he  strode  rapidly  past 
the  closed  factories,  the  more  or  less  open  saloons,  and 
the  swarming  tenements,  though  he  had  formed  no  rose- 
co^pred  visions  of  it  before — rose-colored  visions  not  being 
at  all  in  Thallon's  line,  except  occasionally,  as  we  have 
seen,  in  connection  with  his  own  future. 

As  he  trudged  on  over  the  broken  and  discolored  flags, 
threading  his  way  with  some  difficulty  through  a  motley 
collection  of  dirty  children  who  were  using  them  for  a 
playground,  he  was  taking  a  mental  account  of  stock,  the 
results  of  which  were  not,  to  say  the  least,  intoxicating. 

Since  his  advent  in  Brockton  he  had  earned  something 
under  three  hundred  dollars,  of  which  he  had  lent  Reggie 
Gilbreed  one-third,  a  loan,  oddly  enough,  he  had  not  the 
least  expectation  or  desire  of  having  repaid.  One  hundred 
more  had  gone  west  to  an  Iowa  law  firm.     The  balance 

»7S 


1/6  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

had  not  been  quite  sufficient  to  pay  his  board,  —  even  the 
very  reasonable  board  of  the  Everett.  There  were  some 
other  obligations  which  would  have  to  wait  until  the  first 
of  the  month. 

It  was  in  the  face  of  circumstances  Uke  these  that  he 
had  yesterday  calmly  contemplated  giving  up  the  Lever- 
son  connection.  There  was,  after  all,  a  good  deal  that 
was  plucky  about  Thallon.  Probably  no  other  man  in 
Brockton  would  have  planned  the  course  he  had  on  such 
resources.  Even  Mclntyre  who,  metaphorically  speaking, 
was  used  by  Leverson  to  wipe  up  the  floor,  could  most 
likely  have  bought  Thallon  out  ten  times  over,  yet  the 
latter  had,  in  a  sense,  won  a  position  for  himself  which 
had  its  value.  There  were  several  men  and  women  in 
Brockton  who  believed  in  him  already. 

A  sensation  of  keen  pleasure  came  to  him  with  his 
recognition  of  it.  He  must  have  ardently  desired  this 
approval,  for  had  he  not  in  a  way  labored  for  it .''  In  look- 
ing back,  he  admitted  that  he  had  very  much  modified  his 
line  of  action.  There  were  things  which  a  little  while 
back  he  would  have  done  without  an  instant's  compunc- 
tion, which  just  now  seemed  quite  unworthy  of  him.  He 
knew  perfectly  to  what  influence  he  owed  the  change,  — 
and  knowing  it  was  perfectly  satisfied  that  it  should  be 
so.  He  had  it  in  his  mind  to  make  her  estimate  of  him 
come  true. 

He  had  hardly  seriously  believed  in  his  new  philosophy 
when  a  week  or  two  before  he  had  begun  to  write.  Sud- 
denly the  thing  had  taken  shape  in  his  mind.  The  thought 
seemed  to  expand,  to  give  him  a  wider  opportunity ;  other 
people,  perhaps,  besides  himself,  had  wrongs  to  right.  Why 
not  help  them  ? 

That  a  personal  ambition,  as  well  as  a  personal  antipa- 
thy, was  gratified  by  the  prospect  and  had  a  share  in 
his  decision,  he  had  admitted  frankly  to  himself.     In  fact. 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1/7 

he  could  not,  as  yet,  have  understood  any  scheme  of  action 
which  exckided  them.     We  are  not  made  over  in  a  day. 

His  choice  of  a  walk  through  Brockton's  least  pleasing 
suburbs  finally  brought  him  out  on  the  Harrisburg  and 
Brockton  Turnpike,  which  parallels  the  railroad  and  rivals 
it  in  dust  and  ugliness,  at  a  point  locally  known  as  Brock- 
ton Junction. 

A  dilapidated  freight  shed,  with  its  rough  platforms ;  a 
long  line  of  coal  pockets  on  either  side  of  the  double  track, 
together  with  a  huge  water-tank,  marked  the  Junction's 
ignoble  existence  as  a  coal-and-water  station. 

Thallon  stretched  himself  on  the  steps  of  the  freight  shed 
after  his  five-mile  walk,  letting  his  eyes  wander  toward  a 
hollow  in  the  road  below  across  a  vista  of  tangled  huckle- 
berry scrub,  some  stunted  alders,  and  a  very  muddy  pond 
wherein  a  very  ragged  and  disreputable-looking  little  boy 
was,  at  the  moment  of  Thallon's  advent,  making  some  sort 
of  a  demonstration  which  produced  a  series  of  yelping  pro- 
tests from  a  very  disreputable-looking  dog. 

The  chief  actor  in  this  small  drama  was  not  so  absorbed 
in  his  art  as  to  remain  unconscious  of  the  arrival  of  an 
audience,  and  took  the  most  direct  means  of  soliciting  its 
appi^oval  by  bringing  on  the  climax,  while  he  rent  the  air 
with  shouts  of  triumph  interspersed  with  a  cordial  invita- 
tion to  the  newcomer  to  join  the  sport. 

"  I's  drowndin'  ut,"  he  yelled  at  the  top  of  his  infant 
treble,  the  sweet  innocence  of  happy  childhood  showing 
itself  in  a  wicked  gleam  from  out  a  pair  of  impish  eyes. 
"  Come  down  an'  see  ut  kick,  an'  git  a  move  on  yer  if  yer 
comin' ;  for  ut's  mos'  dead,  ut  be." 

There  was  no  longer  an  occupant  of  the  station  steps, 
for  Thallon  had  obeyed  this  invitation  with  so  much  alac- 
rity that  before  the  words  were  fairly  out  of  the  boy's 
mouth,  he  had  him  by  his  ragged  collar  and  had  dragged 
the  half-drowned  cur  on  to  the  muddy  bank  by  the  bit  of 


178  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

frayed  rope  by  which  it  had  been  neatly  attached  to  a  lump 
of  railroad  iron. 

The  rope  being  much  tougher  than  the  collar,  the  boy 
was  loose  some  time  before  his  rescuer  could  free  the  dog, 
so  that  when  some  minutes  later  Thallon  stood  up  holding 
the  dripping  animal  at  arm's  length,  the  boy  was  looking 
down  on  him  in  defiant  fury  from  the  higher  ground  of 
the  station. 

The  boy  was  saying  things  not  at  all  fit  for  pubhcation. 
Some  one  was  opening  the  freight  shed  and  there  was  the 
whistle  of  an  approaching  train. 

Still  holding  the  dog,  Thallon  clambered  back  to  his 
former  position,  the  boy  retreating  before  him,  but  slowly, 
as  if  determined  to  harass  the  enemy. 

"  What  did  you  want  to  do  that  for  .■'  "  Thallon  demanded 
with  a  sternness  not  entirely  unmixed  with  curiosity. 

"  'Tain't  none  ov  your  gol-darned  business.  Ye  ain't  got 
no  call  ter  prig  the  pup  out  o'  me.  I'll  break  yer  ugly 
dough-faced  head  fer  ut,  I  will.  Ut  were  my  pup,  ut 
were." 

Thallon  began  to  realize  that  even  here  he  might  be 
trespassing  upon  the  sacred  rights  of  property.  He  made 
a  sign  to  the  boy  to  remain  where  he  was,  —  the  only  thing 
he  could  do,  —  for  the  Philadelphia  express  had  just  rounded 
the  curve  and  was  drawing  up  at  the  station  with  a  loud 
hiss  from  its '  air-brakes,  as  if  it  were  showing  its  disap- 
proval of  the  low  moral  tone  of  Brockton  Junction. 

"  Come  back  here,"  Thallon  called,  as  soon  as  he  had  a 
chance  of  making  himself  heard,  accentuating  his  meaning 
by  a  jerk  of  the  head  more  expressive  than  words.  It  was 
perfectly  evident  that  he  expected  to  be  obeyed,  a  rather 
curious  self-confidence  considering  the  circumstances, 
though  it  was  presently  justified. 

The  impish  spirit  in  the  road  below  had  begun  slowly  to 
remount  the  bank  of  earth  which  led  to  the  station  steps. 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1 79 

The  refined  and  exclusive  Philadelphia  express,  in  all  the 
glory  of  its  maroon  paint  and  varnish,  looked  on  with  a 
contemptuous  snort  or  two,  as  if  it  despised  itself  for  the 
necessity,  and  was  only  anxious  to  get  away. 

The  distrust  in  the  boy's  manner  as  he  came  forward 
was  natural  enough.  It  was  plain  that  he  understood  this 
move  only  as  a  parley  with  an  enemy,  whose  sense  of 
honor  was  more  than  doubtful.  He  came  forward,  his 
eyes  fixed  uneasily  on  Thallon,  his  cautious  advance  ready 
on  the  instant  to  be  turned  into  a  retreat. 

Thallon,  on  his  part,  for  the  first  time  took  a  good  look 
at  him.  His  round  bullet  head,  protected  only  by  a  shock 
of  ill-kept  reddish  hair,  seemed  too  large  for  an  emaciated 
body,  its  condition  more  than  sufficiently  visible  through 
numerous  rents  in  his  faded  cotton  shirt.  His  apology  for 
a  pair  of  trousers,  originally  intended  to  reach  the  knees  of 
a  still  smaller  boy,  were  satisfied  to  accomplish  half  that 
distance  on  the  anatomy  of  their  present  owner.  If  the 
child  were  ten  years  old,  it  was  as  much  as  he  could  boast, 
though  the  face  might  have  belonged  to  a  wicked  old  man 
of  sixty,  with  its  glittering,  beadUke  eyes,  the  only  part  of 
him  clean  enough  to  have  any  distinct  color. 

'j  Look  here,  boy,"  Thallon  began  as  soon  as  they  were 
within  speaking  distance,  and  not  unkindly,  considering 
his  reasons  for  severity;  "what  will  you  take  for  this 
dog  ? " 

"  What'll  gimme  fur  ut  ? "  came  the  counter-question, 
the  light  of  avarice  adding  to  the  beauty  of  the  assassin's 
expression. 

"This."  Thallon  tossed  the  assassin  a  small  piece  of 
silver,  not  at  all  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  very  few 
of  them  to  spare. 

The  assassin  caught  it  with  marvellous  dexterity,  bit  it  to 
see  that  it  was  good,  and  concealed  it  among  his  rags,  all 
seemingly  by  one  movement  of   his   thin   arms,  the   cur 


l80  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

meantime  watching  this  transfer  of   his  ownership  with 
keen  interest  from  between  Thallon's  knees. 

"What  have  you  got  there?"  the  latter  went  on  when 
the  sale  was  consummated,  and  pointing  to  a  bulging  por- 
tion of  the  child's  shirt  where  he  was  evidently  concealing 
something. 

The  transfer  of  the  money  had  greatly  heightened  the 
assassins's  respect  for  Thallon ;  anyway,  it  had  increased 
his  confidence,  for  he  now  produced  from  its  hiding-place 
the  shining  body  of  a  small  black  snake  and  held  it  out  for 
inspection  with  pardonable  pride. 

"  Dunno  what  ye  calls  it ;  ther  dog  kilt  it  down  th' 
road  a  piece.  I  saw'd  ut,"  he  went  on  in  pleased  ex- 
planation. 

"  Why,  it's  a  black  snake !     What's  that  in  its  mouth  ? " 

"  Fedders !  Ut  had  holt  of  a  bird  when  th'  pup  jumped 
ut.  I've  got  th'  bird  hid  ;  what'll  yer  gimme  fur  ut .''  "  this 
commercial  genius  went  on  with  a  keen  eye  to  a  second 
bargain. 

"What  made  you  try  to  drown  the  dog?  "  Thallon  de- 
manded, ignoring  this  last  suggestion  and  returning  to  his 
first  query. 

"  Ter  trade  ut  down  ter  th'  city.  There's  kids  has  'em 
ter  play  wid  ;  but  this  'ere's  worth  plunks,"  he  added, 
pointing  to  the  dead  snake. 

"  Plunks  ?     And  who'll  buy  that,  pray  ? " 
■    The  assassin  saw  there  was  no  chance  of  a  sale  here, 
so  he  answered  the  question  with  candor. 

"There's  a  Gud-forsaken-fool  buys  'em,"  he  remarked 
scornfully;  and  then  added  with  a  touch  of  returning 
suspicion,  "  ye  ain't  a-goin'  ter  take  ut  off  me,  ye  ain't ; 
not  widout  ye  pay  plunks  fer  ut,"  and  he  gathered  up 
his  treasures  and  sprang  back  a  pace  or  two  out  of  arm's 
reach. 

Thallon  laughed,  though  rather  wearily,  as  if  he  had  be- 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  l8l 

gun  to  lose  interest  in  the  wicked  old  man.  The  express 
had  begun  to  move  slowly ;  the  long  Hne  of  cushioned  chairs 
inside  the  drawing-room  cars  looked  invitingly  cool  as  he 
glanced  up  at  them  for  the  first  time. 

In  doing  so,  he  became  aware  that  two  people  were 
standing  on  the  platform  just  behind  him,  apparently 
amused  spectators  of  what  had  been  going  on.  The  sta- 
tion-master, having  closed  his  freight  shed,  was  at  liberty 
to  amuse  himself  as  he  liked  until  the  eight  o'clock  train 
was  due  from  the  west,  but  the  other  man  —  just  alighted 
from  the  six-thirty  —  had  no  excuse  for  lingering.  It 
took  a  good  deal  to  embarrass  Owen  Thallon,  but  he 
flushed  slightly  as  he  took  in  the  ludicrous  side  of  the 
situation,  and  recognized  in  this  late  arrival  no  less  a 
person  than  Mobray  Doniphan. 

For  that  very  reason,  perhaps,  he  made  no  effort  to 
attract  his  recognition,  rising  to  his  feet  and  resuming  his 
inquiries  as  if  Doniphan's  overhearing  them  was  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  him. 

"  What's  your  name,  boy  } " 

Putting  the  question  as  he  stood  there  towering  above 
the  boy,  perhaps  gave  it  a  less  friendly  ring,  or,  per- 
haps, conscious  of  an  audience,  the  voice  was  colder.  Be 
thaft  as  it  may,  there  was  a  difference  the  boy  was  quick 
to  catch. 

"  Slathers,  an'  be  damned  ter  ye,"  the  latter  promptly 
answered,  using  the  oath  solely  as  an  indication  that  he 
was  on  his  guard,  and  with  no  unfriendly  animus. 

"  Slathers,"  repeated  his  questioner,  glancing  at  the 
station-master  for  confirmation,  though  he  avoided  looking 
at  Doniphan. 

"  He  ain't  a-lyin',"  the  man  nodded.  "  He's  Sam  Slath- 
ers's  boy,  but  he  goes  mostly  hereabouts  by  the  name  of 
'  Whelp.' " 

"  Pretty,  and  not  inappropriate.     Slathers  senior  seems 


l82  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

an  attentive  parent.  As  a  matter  of  idle  curiosity,  what 
may  his  occupation  be  ? "  Thallon  asked,  smiling. 

The  question  was  addressed  to  the  station-master,  but 
the  Whelp  took  it  upon  himself  to  answer  it  with  evident 
pride. 

"  He's  a  Scorcher,  he  be." 

"  A  Scorcher .?  " 

*'  He's  allers  scorchin'  ther  owners  b'twin  strikes." 
This  with  an  increased  importance  from  the  Whelp,  the 
right  to  which  was  confirmed  by  another  nod  from  the 
station-master. 

"  Labor  agitator,"  Mr.  Doniphan  here  put  in  tersely, 
declining  to  be  longer  ignored.  "  He  lives  a  mile  or  so 
toward  Brockton  on  this  road.  You  may  have  seen  him 
at  Lindley's,"  he  added,  turning  his  shrewd  eyes  squarely 
on  Thallon. 

"  Yes ;  I  remember  the  name  now." 

"  A  bad  lot,  sir,"  the  station-master  volunteered.  "You 
see  Brockton's  a  mill  town  and  some  o'  them  fellers  makes 
a  sight  more  money  agitatin'  than  they  ever  did  at  days' 
wages,  though  in  this  'ere  case  the  Whelp  sees  precious 
little  of  his  dad's  money  as  you  can  tell  by  the  looks  of 
him.  Come  now,  be  off  with  you,  and  don't  bother  the 
gentleman,"  and  the  man  snapped  his  fingers  not  ill- 
naturedly  at  the  Whelp,  who  thereupon  disappeared 
down  the  road  as  rapidly  as  the  conveyance  of  his  nu- 
merous possessions  permitted,  looking  back  at  intervals  to 
make  sure  he  was  not  followed. 

Thallon  was  conscious  of  an  awkward  moment  when, 
the  official  having  departed  toward  the  Junction's  only 
decent  house,  he  was  left  alone  with  Mobray  Doniphan  on 
the  steps  of  the  freight  shed. 

Doniphan,  for  his  part,  broke  the  pause  abruptly,  with- 
out the  slightest  embarrassment ;  apparently  he  was  in  no 
hurry  to  move  on. 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1 83 

"That  was  a  bloody-minded  little  beast,"  he  remarked 
thoughtfully,  glancing  down  at  the  dog  which  was  shiver- 
ing against  Thallon's  legs. 

"  Which  ? "  Thallon  asked,  stooping  to  pick  up  the 
little  brute  which,  though  it  was  still  damp,  he  tucked 
under  his  arm. 

"Well,  I  referred  to  the  boy,  but  the  same  epithet 
appHes  to  your  prot6g6.  He  killed  the  snake,  and,  if  you 
go  back  far  enough,  the  snake  killed  the  bird.  They're 
all  necessary  links  in  a  curious  chain  of  murder  and  pillage 
which  comes  up  through  these  three  so-called  lower  orders 
of  creation  into  the  welcoming  arms  of  our  human  species 
through  that  small  outcast." 

Despite  himself  Thallon  was  interested.  He  had  known 
well  enough  that  Doniphan  did  not  like  him,  and  it  there- 
fore struck  him  as  odd  that  he  should  make  even  this 
slight  effort  to  entertain  him.  He  had  not  yet  learned 
that  Doniphan  could  make  himself  very  agreeable  to 
people  he  disliked. 

"  I  suppose  you  could  follow  the  system  in  the  opposite 
direction  with  much  the  same  results,"  he  said,  smiling. 
"  Slathers  junior  in  his  turn  beaten  and  starved  out  of 
existence  by  Slathers  senior,  who  doubtless  stands  in  awe 
of  scJme  one  who  has  got  him  by  the  throat." 

"Just  so,"  Doniphan  said  with  a  little  snort  of  satis- 
faction, as  if  the  prospect  pleased  him.  "  Now,  what  I 
want  to  know  is  why  you  interfered  and  broke  the  chain. 
I  happen  to  know  because  I  saw  you  do  it.  You  deliber- 
ately, with  your  eyes  open,  purchased  a  life.  Now  that  en- 
tails a  responsibility.     What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  Going  to  keep  it,"  the  younger  man  rejoined  without 
hesitation,  though  a  moment  before  he  had  not  been  at  all 
sure  of  it. 

"  Keep  it  ? "  Doniphan  repeated  with  one  of  his  inscru- 
table smiles.    "  Now  just  see  how  one  inconsistency  involves 


l84  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

another.  You  first  break  away  from  the  system  under 
which  you  have  the  luck  to  Hve,  by  interfering  with  the 
perpetration  of  a  simple  little  murder.  Mind  !  you  haven't 
the  excuse  that  you  were  saving  anything  of  any  earthly 
value,  as  values  are  computed ;  if  you  could,  you  would 
have  the  all-sufficient  excuse  of  economy.  Quite  the  con- 
trary; while  you  have  reimbursed  the  Whelp  for  his  com- 
mercial loss,  you  have  nothing  whatever  to  show  for  your 
money  except  sentiment,  which  has  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  the  system.  Hence  your  continued  inconsistency, 
multiplied  many  fold  by  your  calmly  proposing  to  give  the 
animal  at  least  one  meal  a  day." 

Thallon  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  little  man's  ear- 
nestness. They  had  turned  their  backs  on  the  station  and 
were  walking  in  the  direction  of  Brockton,  for  it  was  get- 
ting late.  He  began  to  wonder  what  Doniphan  was  driv- 
ing at.  The  little  man's  next  words  enlightened  him  on 
that  point  with  startling  abruptness. 

"I  think  I've  hit  on  your  reason  for  doing  it,"  he  was  saying. 
"  You're  lonely,  and  you  wanted  something  to  take  care  of." 

Thallon  flushed  to  the  temples.  Had  he  been  justly 
accused  of  theft  he  could  hardly  have  looked  more 
conscience-stricken . 

"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  somewhat  defiantly. 

"Why,  you  see,"  Doniphan  went  on  in  a  softer  tone, 
"  the  moment  we  admit  there  is  such  a  thing  as  love, 
affection,  or  whatever  you  like  to  call  it,  —  I  mean  un- 
selfish love,  not  instinct,  —  and  admit  that  we  need  it,  we 
range  ourselves  in  open  hostility  to  this  life-and-death 
struggle,  through  which  only  the  strong  survive,  —  not 
the  best.  We  go  on  struggHng,  of  course,  but  against  it, 
not  against  each  other.  I  was  down  at  Lindley's  at  dinner 
to-day  and  he  told  me  about  your  articles.  If  you  can  work 
the  Transcript  into  a  respectable  sheet,  you  won't  be  doing 
badly ;  why  haven't  I  been  told  of  this  before  .''  " 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1 85 

"  I  thought  you  were  the  last  man  to  take  any  interest  in 

...» »» 
me. 

"  I  didn't  say  I  had.  I  only  take  interest  in  the  work, 
which,  by  the  bye,  won't  be  worth  doing  until  you  forget 
yourself  in  it.     You  haven't  done  that  yet." 

"I  don't  pretend  —  "  Thallon  began  indignantly. 

"  Yes,  but  you  must  pretend,  and  then  live  up  to  your 
pretensions.  It's  easy  enough  to  say  you  don't  believe  the 
thing  can  be  made  any  better  and  so  wash  your  hands  of  it. 
We've  been  given  brains  and  muscles,  I  take  it,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  making  it  better.  As  you've  been  given 
your  fair  share  of  both,  you'd  better  cast  them  on  the  right 
side,  as  I  admit  you've  shown  some  disposition  to  do.  By 
the  way,  Lindley's  been  telling  me  of  your  relations  with 
Leverson.     You  don't  mind,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I'm  only  curious  to  know  if  you  agree  with 
him  about  my  staying." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  like  the  stand  you  took  immensely. 
It  wiped  out  a  first  impression  I  had  of  you,  which  was 
no  pleasanter  for  me  to  hold  than  it  would  have  been  for 
you  to  hear  of.  No,  you  were  quite  right  about  that  matter, 
—  you  can't  serve  God  and  Mammon." 

Xhallon  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  appHcation  of  the 
text. 

"  I  don't  quite  understand  Dr.  Lindley's  position  there," 
he  said  with  instantly  recovered  gravity,  though  con- 
scious of  a  certain  pleasure  at  Doniphan's  qualified 
praise. 

"  Oh,  /  do,"  the  little  man  returned  with  his  usual  con- 
fidence. "  It's  not  Leverson  —  it's  the  concern.  Lindley, 
as  you  know,  came  as  near  loving  John  Leverson  as  one 
man  can  love  another.  He  abuses  Ashton  to  his  face,  yet 
he's  never  been  able  to  give  up  hope  that  he  may  make  him 
do  something  decent.  When  he  learns  of  these  late  develop- 
ments you  and  I  are  aware  of,  he'll  modify  his  tone,  and 


1 86  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

that  can't  be  long  delayed  now.  Perhaps  you  don't  know 
—  Leverson's  got  back." 

"  Indeed  !     When  ?  " 

"  This  morning,  they  tell  me.  So  you  see  things  are 
drawing  to  a  focus  pretty  rapidly.  Some  rumor  of  this 
deal  must  have  got  wind,  for  there  are  signs  of  unrest  in 
more  quarters  than  one.  An  ominous  growl  from  the 
unions  that  their  contracts  with  the  Leverson  Company 
are  not  transferable,  an  ugly  bit  of  bad  faith  —  to  cap 
the  other  side  —  the  way  sharp  practice  always  breeds  itself. 
I'm  down  here  now  to  see  this  man  Slathers,  the  prime 
mover  in  all  their  troubles.  I  want  to  pump  him  and,  if 
possible,  find  out  what  the  situation  really  is.  I  wouldn't 
mind  if  the  Colonel's  little  game  were  neatly  blocked,  but 
I  don't  want  it  blocked  in  that  way." 

They  had  been  walking  briskly  along  the  road,  Doni- 
phan taking  three  steps  to  Thallon's  two.  The  sun  had 
long  since  set  and  the  twilight  was  already  fading  rapidly. 
They  had  reached  a  point  where  a  bit  of  straggling  woods 
came  down  close  to  the  road,  and  as  they  entered  it  they 
found  themselves  in  almost  complete  darkness,  save  for  a 
shimmer  of  belated  dayhght  at  the  farther  end  where  the 
trees  stood  out  in  silhouette  against  the  sky,  or  a  few 
twinkling  lights  on  either  side  which  might  belong  to 
human  habitations. 

"  You'd  better  wait  and  go  down  with  me  on  the  eight 
o'clock  down  train,"  Doniphan  remarked  as  they  went  on 
more  slowly.  "  I've  kept  you  back  too  long  for  the  walk 
home,  and  this  is  an  evil-looking  hole,  with  anything  but 
a  savory  reputation.  You'd  hardly  believe  it,  but  there's 
quite  a  settlement  about  here.  Oh,  yes,  —  I  forgot !  You 
must  have  seen  it  on  your  way  out  if  you  walked  to  the 
Junction.     They  call  it  Brockton  Corners." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  it,  but  I  don't  know  the  house 
you're  looking  for." 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1 87 

*'  Nor  I,  in  the  dark,  though  I've  been  there  before 
in  the  daytime,"  Doniphan  went  on  cheerfully.  "The 
lair  of  that  beast  of  ill  omen.  Slathers  senior,  I  should 
call  it,  —  sire  of  the  Whelp  we  met  just  now.  The  elder 
beast  doesn't  trouble  it  much,  I  fancy.  Only  keeps  this 
shanty  for  herding  the  female  beast  and  the  cubs.  Spends 
most  of  his  own  time  at  the  Yellow  Dog,  —  that  ill-smell- 
ing beer  resort  at  the  lower  end  of  Brockton,  the  one 
down  by  the  river.  Now  the  great  question  is,  —  which 
light  is  the  Slathers  light.''     We  might  try  this  one." 

He  paused  as  he  spoke  before  a  pair  of  wooden  steps 
which  led  back  from  the  road  up  a  steep  bank  covered 
more  or  less  by  straggling  trees.  A  short  distance  up 
this  bank  they  could  make  out  the  dim  outline  of  a  small 
frame  building.  Through  a  break  in  its  shutters  a  streak 
of  lamplight  cut  the  outer  darkness,  making  a  clear  view 
of  it  if  anything  more  difficult. 

"  Who  lives  here  ?  "  Doniphan  shouted  at  the  top  of 
his  high-pitched  voice. 

For  an  instant  there  was  dead  silence  as  they  stood 
waiting,  then  a  door  was  thrown  wide  open,  letting  out 
a  broad  band  of  light,  which  fell  full  upon  the  stairway 
and  upon  Doniphan,  who  had  already  mounted  one  or  two 
of  the  lower  steps.  Thallon  was  a  pace  or  two  behind 
him  in  the  deep  shadow  of  the  road. 

A  woman's  figure  stood  in  the  doorway,  black  against 
the  bright  light  of  the  room.  She  had  raised  her  hand  to 
shield  her  eyes  and  was  peering  into  the  darkness. 

"  What-d'ye-want .' "  she  demanded  in  no  very  cordial 
tone,  and  concentrating  the  sentence  into  one  word. 

"  Slathers,"  Doniphan  answered  laconically,  going  up 
another  step. 

"  He  ain't  in  no  fit  state  ter  see  visitors,"  the  woman 
said  deprecatingly.  "  His  cough's  that  bad.  What-d'ye- 
want  ter  see  'im  f  er  ? " 


1 88  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  It's  the  female  beast,"  Doniphan  said  in  a  low,  rapid 
aside  to  Thallon,  without  answering  the  woman's  question. 
"  Will  you  wait  here  for  me  ? " 

The  other  man  gave  a  short  affirmative  in  the  same 
tone.  Doniphan  sprang  up  the  steps  and  an  instant  later 
the  door  closed  on  him,  very  much  as  if  the  male  beast 
within  had  swallowed  him  up. 

Left  in  the  outer  darkness  Thallon  began  to  walk  slowly 
up  and  down  the  road.  The  evening  had  shut  in  close 
and  muggy  ;  the  air  was  heavy,  as  if  from  coming  rain  ; 
the  dead  stillness  was  broken  only  by  the  shrill  rasping 
sound  of  tree-toads,  or  the  croaking  of  frogs  in  some  marsh 
land  on  the  left  of  the  road. 

Sequestered  and  ill  favored,  the  place  would  have  been 
depressing  enough  at  any  time, — doubly  so  in  the  fast- 
gathering  darkness  which  was  now  well-nigh  complete 
under  the  trees,  yet  the  young  man's  spirits  rose  exultantly. 
Thoughts  triumphant  were  chasing  each  other  through 
his  rapidly  working  brain.  He  was  certainly  finding  his 
place.  It  was  no  small  thing  to  have  found  himself,  with- 
out a  move  on  his  part,  in  the  confidence  of  a  man  like 
Doniphan.  Could  it  be  that  Mrs.  Leverson  —  but  he 
rejected  the  thought  instantly.  If  Doniphan  had  heard 
anything  about  him,  it  must  have  been  from  Lindley. 

The  dog  he  still  carried  stirred  uneasily  and  he  shifted 
it  carefully  to  his  other  arm,  —  his  right  arm,  —  rubbing 
its  ears  as  he  did  so  with  a  touch  which  was  a  caress ; 
something  he  would  not  have  dreamed  of  doing  before  an 
audience. 

The  fancy  took  hold  of  him  that  this  second  waif  and 
stray  had  somehow  brought  good  fortune  into  his  life,  — 
anyway,  he  was  enjoying  in  it  a  certain  sense  of  fellowship 
as  new  as  it  was  satisfactory. 

A  moment  later  he  was  asking  himself  what  had  made 
such  a  thing  possible.     Six  months  ago  it  would  not  have 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  1 89 

occurred  to  him.  Things  had  been  desperately  dark  then, 
and  there  had  been  no  room  for  fellowship.  He  had 
learned  since  that  the  struggle  for  a  foothold,  though  the 
first,  is  not  the  only  instinct  of  the  race,  and  that  there  are 
more  kinds  of  starvation  than  one. 

He  had  learned  that  much  from  a  girl  of  twenty,  by  the 
mere  use  of  his  eyes,  and  the  knowledge  that  she  could 
suffer  as  she  had  suffered  had  been  a  revelation.  Strangest 
of  all,  this  new  growth  in  him  had  until  now  stimulated,  if 
anything,  that  initial  instinct  which  had  brought  him  to 
Brockton. 

Some  days  since  he  had  done  his  best  to  shield  her, 
even  at  the  price  of  shielding  the  man  who  had  wronged 
her.  He  had  done  so  without  much  thought,  either  of  per- 
sonal danger  to  himself  or  of  danger  to  his  inherent  pur- 
pose which  included  his  own  triumph  and  the  other  man's 
punishment.  To-night  it  came  upon  him  in  a  flash  that  this 
new  tendency  had  begun  to  hedge  him  in.  Looking  ahead, 
down  the  vista  of  possibilities,  how  could  he  injure  the  man 
without  injuring  the  woman  ?  His  attitude  toward  her  did 
not  shift  on  the  instant,  but  the  thought  had  come  to  him  for 
the  second  time,  an  echo  of  his  first  sight  of  her  at  the 
Doctor's  when  the  knowledge  that  Ashton  Leverson  was 
married  had  come  as  a  disagreeable  surprise. 

It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  although  he  had  felt 
deeply  flattered  by  Doniphan's  confidence,  it  had  not  oc- 
curred to  him  to  return  it.  All  his  plans  were  set  to  his 
own  ordering  as  he  turned  them  over  in  his  mind.  Slowly 
pacing  the  dark  roadway  he  had  quite  forgotten  Doniphan, 
when  he  came  to  an  abrupt  stand  as  a  shadow  darted 
across  his  path,  —  a  small  shadow  which  paused  for  an 
instant  beside  him  and  was  gone  before  he  had  time  to 
realize  what  it  was. 

Yet  a  moment  later  it  came  to  him,  as  if  by  intuition, 
that  it  must  have  been  the  Whelp,     Nothing  el^Q  in  heaven 


IQO  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

or  earth  could  move  with  that  marvellous  quickness,  —  yet 
what  in  reason  could  have  brought  it  here  at  such  a  time 
to  speak  to  him,  for  it  had  certainly  said  something  as 
it  passed,  though  in  a  muttered  jargon  beyond  his  compre- 
hension, 

Thallon  smiled  to  himself  as  he  recalled  the  Whelp's 
commercial  tendencies.  Very  likely  it  was  bent  upon 
another  bargain,  though  why  it  should  have  been  so  nig- 
gardly of  its  time  was  difficult  to  say. 

The  incident  had  undoubtedly  set  his  nerves  on  the 
alert,  for  presently  he  fancied  that  he  again  heard  steps 
behind  him,  and  felt  some  chagrin,  when  turning  he  found 
himself  facing  nothing  more  dangerous  than  a  clump  of 
stunted  alders  which  had  pushed  themselves  beyond  their 
proper  limits  into  the  road. 

Thallon  was  not  at  all  the  kind  of  man  to  let  his  nerves 
get  the  better  of  him  in  that  way.  If  he  had  had  any 
doubts  about  the  wisdom  of  Doniphan's  visit  to  this  sinis- 
ter locality  at  such  an  hour,  it  had  been  on  Doniphan's 
account,  not  his  own. 

He  began  now  to  think  it  was  time  to  look  him  up,  and 
turned  back  toward  the  Slathers  shanty,  walking  more 
briskly.  He  resisted  the  impulse  to  look  behind  him  when 
a  third  time  he  felt  that  mysterious  sensation  that  he  was 
being  followed,  —  that  is  to  say,  he  resisted  it  when  it 
first  returned  to  him  and  for  several  seconds  after  as  he 
walked  steadily  on.  But  when  he  got  within  a  few  steps 
of  the  wooden  stairway,  the  sensation  became  well-nigh 
overpowering,  and  he  turned  again,  though  shamefacedly, 
prepared  to  meet  some  fresh  proof  of  his  own  foolishness. 

But  it  was  too  late  then  !  Directly  facing  him  a  black 
shadow  stood  between  him  and  the  light  of  the  opening  in 
the  woods  beyond,  and  so  near  that  he  was  conscious  of 
touching  it  as  he  threw  up  his  disengaged  left  hand. 

Too  late  !     Far  too  late  !  —  for  he  saw  only  an  uplifted 


BROCKTON  JUNCTION  I9I 

arm  black  against  the  light,  heard  only  a  whirring  sound 
as  of  something  cutting  the  air  with  lightning  swiftness, 
before  the  descending  blow  had  struck  him,  and  he  fell  for- 
ward on  his  face  into  the  dust  and  gravel  of  the  road. 

There  was  a  sharp  whistle  from  a  clump  of  bushes 
farther  down  the  road ;  the  sound  of  rapidly  retreating 
footsteps ;  the  long-drawn  dismal  howl  of  a  dog ;  and  the 
slamming  of  a  door  at  the  head  of  the  wooden  steps.  Then 
there  was  the  flashing  of  many  lights  and  the  calling  of 
many  voices. 

The  Comers  were  roused  at  last 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

LEVERSON  HEARS  A  GREAT  DEAL  TOO  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN 

THALLON 

If  the  mood  in  which  the  master  of  Elmhurst  returned 
to  the  shelter  of  its  somewhat  irregular  and  disjointed  roof- 
tree  could  not  have  been  described  as  heavenly,  the  events 
of  the  succeeding  day  were  not,  perhaps,  calculated  to 
make  it  more  so.  When  he  arrived  in  time  for  a  late 
breakfast  Sunday  morning,  it  was  perfectly  evident  to  cer- 
tain expert  interpreters  of  the  Leverson  weather,  who  still 
lingered  over  their  chicken  bones  and  egg  shells,  that  some- 
thing had  "  gone  wrong  "  on  his  late  impromptu  pleasure 
trip ;  a  circumstance  not  so  out  of  the  ordinary  as  the 
accompanying  reality  that  neither  Miss  Laurie  nor  Marga- 
ret—  the  especially  appointed  guardians  of  his  peace  of 
mind  —  seemed  capable  of  what  Mildred  Gilbreed  called 
"  making  it  up  to  him." 

He  had  always  been  accustomed  to  find  his  wife  more 
than  ready  to  lighten  any  such  period  of  depression  with- 
out regard  to  any  little  misunderstandings  which  might 
have  previously  occurred,  or  any  unpleasant  inquiries  as 
to  the  immediate  cause  of  his  "blue  devils";  but  now, 
when  he  found  himself  in  some  need  of  that  kind  of  relax- 
ation, he  woke  for  the  first  time  to  the  fact  that  it  was  no 
longer  offered  to  him. 

This  discovery,  far  from  putting  him  in  a  repentant 
mood,  only  had  the  effect  of  making  him  class  her  as 
among  the  principal  causes  of  his  own  discomfort,  which 

192 


LEVERSON   HEARS  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     1 93 

was  saying  a  good  deal,  for  they  were  numerous  and 
malignant. 

He  got  away  from  the  table  as  soon  as  he  could,  his 
appetite  for  the  society  of  his  domestic  circle  being  no 
keener  than  his  appreciation  of  the  hot  toast  and  coffee, 
and  was  bending  his  steps  toward  the  stables  when  he 
came  across  Miss  Laurie,  already  dressed  for  church, 
slowly  pacing  the  gravel  path  which  he  must  traverse  in 
order  to  get  there.  She  took  his  arm  without  any  apology 
for  detaining  him,  as  was  the  good  lady's  custom  when  she 
had  anything  to  say. 

"  I  want  to  ask  you  about  your  book,"  she  began  with 
her  habitual  abruptness.  "  Are  you  doing  any  work  on 
it .? " 

"  Well,  not  these  last  few  weeks,"  Leverson  answered, 
softening.  "  There  have  been  a  good  many  business  mat- 
ters lately  which  have  taken  up  most  of  my  time,  besides 
which  Thallon  has  been  too  busy  at  other  work  for  copying, 
but  I  hope  to  get  at  it  again  before  long." 

"  Speaking  of  that  extremely  brilliant  young  man," 
Miss  Laurie  went  on,  making  a  little  face,  "  I  wanted 
to  ask  you  if  you'd  noticed  a  waning  of  interest  on  his 
part  in  your  literary  productions  within  the  last  two 
montns.  You  spoke  of  him  as  quite  phenomenal  in  that 
respect  at  first.     Does  he  continue  so  .?  " 

"  Why,  really,"  Leverson  began,  wondering  what  the 
old  lady  could  be  driving  at,  inasmuch  as  she  always  drove 
at  something  definite,  "  that  kind  of  thing  can  hardly  be 
kept  up  like  a  machine,  you  know ;  there  must  be  times  —  " 

"  In  short,  it's  very  much  what  I  supposed,"  Miss 
Laurie  interrupted  in  her  crisp,  businesslike  tone.  "Just 
about  eight  weeks  ago  this  young  man,  who  calls  himself 
Owen  Thallon,  though  he  may  be  any  one  under  heaven 
for  aught  we  know,  suddenly  ceased  to  be  of  any  prac- 
tical use  to  you  ip  ^  field  where  he  had  hitherto  been 


194  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

most  promising,  resulting  in  your  putting  him  at  other 
work,  which,  by  the  bye,  you  have  always  hated." 

Leverson,  still  with  an  eye  on  the  stables,  here  began  to 
feel  some  impatience. 

"  It  was  just  about  that  time  that  certain  business  mat- 
ters I  haven't  time  to  go  into  now  came  up  for  our  consid- 
eration. Of  course  I  put  him  at  that,  and  he's  done  more 
than  well  on  the  new  tack." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  I  only  wanted  to  verify  ray  dates," 
the  old  lady  went  on  with  something  approaching  a 
chuckle.  "  It  must  have  been  very  soon  after  he  received 
his  orders  from  Margaret  that  this  ideal  clerk  decided  that 
literature  was  not  your  real  vocation." 

"His  orders  from  Margaret! "  Leverson  queried  in  blank 
astonishment,  dropping  her  arm  in  order  to  get  a  better 
view  of  Miss  Laurie's  face. 

"  I  should  judge  from  what  Celeste  —  who  overheard  their 
conversation  quite  by  accident — told  me,  that  Margaret's 
reason  for  counselling  him  to  drop  the  literary  work  was 
that  the  work  itself  could  by  no  possibility  be  made  fit  for 
publication.  In  plain  terms  that  it  was  unutterably  stupid. 
She  further  gave  him  to  understand  that  for  the  sake  of 
his  own  reputation  —  literary  reputation,  I  suppose  —  he 
had  better  take  to  work  elsewhere,  in  which  last,  by  the  way, 
I  heartily  agree  with  her.  Celeste  was,  of  course,  rather 
vague  as  to  the  exact  terms,  but  there's  no  doubt  but 
that  they  reached  a  complete  understanding.  From  what 
you  have  just  told  me,  I  see  he  has  lived  up  to  it.  It  strikes 
me  his  docility  is  even  more  amazing  than  his  genius," 

If  Miss  Laurie  had  wished  to  arouse  Leverson  from  any 
possible  indifference  as  to  his  wife's  actions,  she  had  cer- 
tainly succeeded.  If,  however,  she  had  aimed  at  the  direct 
dismissal  of  a  young  man  to  whom  she  had  taken  an  unac- 
countable disHke,  that  was  quite  another  matter.  Even  if 
Leverson  had  be§p  really  angry  (which  curiously  enough 


LEVERSON   HEARS  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     1 95 

he  had  not  the  appearance  of  being),  she  should  have 
known  that  his  anger  never  interfered  with  his  convenience, 
and  dispensing  with  Thallon's  services  just  then  would 
have  been  a  serious  inconvenience. 

To  do  him  justice,  it  may  be  added  that  inwardly  he  was 
much  more  inclined  to  believe  his  wife  guilty  of  a  dictato- 
rial interference  in  his  private  affairs  than  of  any  graver  in- 
discretion. Suspicious  as  he  was  by  nature  of  most  persons 
about  him,  it  required  something  more  than  the  gossip  of 
a  servant  to  enable  him  to  class  a  woman  like  Margaret 
Leverson  under  that  head.  To  have  taken  any  direct  ac- 
tion toward  her  on  such  authority  would  have  struck  him 
as  rather  vulgar,  though  he  might  have  roared  out  his  dis- 
approval of  her  in  Morgan's  presence  if  she  had  failed  to 
sugar  his  tea. 

Miss  Laurie,  though  her  manners  were  much  more  refined 
than  her  nephew's,  had  failed  to  appreciate  this  in  her  ear- 
nestness in  following  out  her  purpose,  whatever  it  was,  but 
she  saw  her  mistake  instantly  as  she  glanced  at  Leverson's 
face,  which,  if  it  betrayed  anything,  betrayed  a  certain 
amount  of  grim  satisfaction. 

"  I  really  felt  as  if  you  ought  to  know  about  this,"  she 
con^nued  with  less  decision,  falling  back,  as  a  great  many 
people  do  in  awkward  situations  of  this  kind,  on  her  keen 
sense  of  duty.  "As  for  Margaret,  she  is,  of  course,  beyond 
my  criticism,  but  I  do  not  understand  that  you  have  con- 
nected yourself  with  young  Thallon  for  better  for  worse, 
and  the  sooner  you  see  him  in  more  lights  than  one,  the 
sooner  you'll  make  something  like  a  fair  estimate  of  him. 
You  may  mark  my  words  that  he  comes  here  for  no  good 
purpose,  and  that  he  has  a  much  greater  zest  for  the  ad- 
vancement of  his  own  interests  than  he  has  for  yours." 

Miss  Laurie's  last  words  were  almost  passionate.  No 
matter  how  she  began  with  Ashton,  she  always  ended,  if 
she  had  any  object  to  gain,  in  simply  pleading  with  him. 


Tg6  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

Her  shrewd  old  brain  lost  all  its  shrewdness  whenever 
she  came  into  personal  touch  with  him,  and  as  a  reward, 
she  was  probably  the  only  person,  besides  himself,  in  whom 
he  implicitly  believed. 

In  the  present  case  she  had  at  least  the  satisfaction  of 
feeling  that  she  had  put  him  on  his  guard.  If  he  were 
not  likely  to  use  her  warning  quite  as  she  would  have  had 
him  do,  it  was  pretty  certain  her  information  would  be 
stored  away  to  come  out  in  due  season,  —  if  he  could  find 
any  corroboration  of  it  worthy  of  being  quoted.  Even  that 
was  only  conjecture,  for  she  could  get  nothing  more  out  of 
him  than  an  acknowledgment  of  her  devotion  to  his  inter- 
ests before  it  was  time  for  her  to  transfer  her  devotions  to 
St.  Stephen's. 

Miss  Laurie's  Christianity  being  ardent,  like  everything 
else  about  her,  could  contain  itself  with  nothing  short  of 
two  services  on  Sunday,  while  Mrs.  Leverson,  being  less 
addicted  to  religious  dissipation,  only  went  in  the  afternoon. 

As  a  large  part  of  his  morning  had  been  spoiled  by  Miss 
Laurie,  Leverson  (who  only  went  to  church  on  Christmas) 
naturally  looked  forward  to  that  Sunday  afternoon  as  a 
period  when  he  might  reasonably  expect  to  enjoy  himself. 
This,  doubtless,  he  would  have  done  if  it  had  not  been  for 
the  Colonel,  who  took  the  inopportune  moment  when  he  had 
just  roused  himself  from  a  three-hour  nap  on  the  veranda 
to  re-introduce  a  subject  of  which  he  had  already  heard 
more  than  enough. 

The  vision  which  greeted  his  waking  eyes,  as  he  lay  in 
the  depths  of  a  comfortably  cushioned  wicker  chair  slowly 
collecting  his  wits,  was  that  of  a  well-preserved  gentleman 
in  a  white  duck  suit  who  occupied  a  second  wicker  chair 
on  the  opposite  side  of  a  Turkish  table.  This  table  sup- 
ported a  cut-glass  decanter,  which,  being  unstoppered,  gave 
forth  a  pleasing  aroma,  a  bowl  of  like  material  partially 
filled   with  cracked   ice,  a  water-bottle,  a  single    tumbler 


LEVERSON   HEARS   MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     1 97 

which  contained  a  mixture  of  the  contents  of  all  three,  an 
open  cigar  box,  and  an  ash  tray  where  the  remains  of  sev- 
eral cigars  lay  smouldering. 

Leverson  recognized  the  gentleman  and  identified  his 
own  property  on  the  table  at  almost  the  same  time  that  he 
noticed  the  omission  of  a  second  glass.  He  roused  him- 
self to  correct  this  oversight,  and  by  so  doing  attracted  his 
companion's  attention. 

"  You've  been  snoring  dreadfully,"  the  Colonel  remarked 
with  less  than  his  usual  urbanity. 

"  If  you'd  been  up  the  best  part  of  three  nights,"  Lever- 
son  returned,  reaching  for  an  electric  button  on  the  under 
side  of  the  table,  "  perhaps  you  would." 

The  Colonel  made  no  rejoinder  to  this  assertion.  Mor- 
gan, having  brought  another  glass  and  mixed  his  master 
what  he  considered  a  proper  stimulant,  had  taken  his  de- 
parture before  the  Colonel  again  broke  silence. 

"  I  really  can't  congratulate  you,  Ashton,  on  your  choice 
of  a  time  for  taking  a  vacation,"  he  began,  pulling  down 
his  neat  white  cuffs  as  he  was  very  apt  to  do  when  annoyed. 
"  If  you  had  stayed  up  three  nights  running  to  attend  to 
your  business  affairs,  it  might  have  been  more  to  the 
purpose." 

•  "  f  really  don't  know  that  I  require  any  congratulations," 
his  son-in-law  returned  moodily.  "  I'm  accustomed  to 
working  like  a  navvy  in  other  people's  interests  and  get- 
ting no  thanks  for  it  —  not   to  mention  congratulations." 

"  I  suppose  I  need  hardly  remind  you,"  the  Colonel  went 
on,  taking  no  notice  of  his  ill-mannered  interruption, 
"  that  until  we  put  through  this  matter  of  the  consolidation, 
there  will  be  a  good  many  nice  little  details  to  arrange 
and  a  good  many  people  to  see,  who  are  not  likely  to  be 
satisfied  by  interviews  with  Randal  Whitelaw  nor  the  non- 
committal assurances  of  your  confidential  clerk  that  he  has 
not  been  intrusted  with  your  address." 


198  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  If  Thallon  put  it  in  that  way,  he's  an  ass,"  Leverson 
remarked  indifferently.  "  I  supposed  he  knew  enough  to 
say  I'd  be  back  in  two  days  at  farthest  —  important  busi- 
ness, or  something  of  that  sort.  Even  Morgan  could 
have  managed  to  say  that  much." 

"  You're  mistaken  if  you  put  young  Thallon  down  as  an 
ass,"  the  Colonel  rejoined  slowly.  "  If  he  were,  your  rela- 
tionship with  him  would  be  very  much  simplified ;  which 
reminds  me  to  ask  if  you're  acquainted  with  some  of  his 
late  literary  efforts ;  I  mean  literary  efforts  on  his  own  ac- 
count ? " 

It  struck  Leverson  that  this  was  really  piling  it  on. 

"I  don't  care  a  —  a  rap  about  his  literary  efforts,"  he 
returned  aggressively.  "  When  I  took  him  on,  I  under- 
stood he  was  more  or  less  connected  with  journalism.  I 
regarded  it  as  a  point  in  his  favor,  because  I  wanted  a 
man  who  could  give  me  points  on  the  business  part  of  the 
profession.  I  got  him  at  a  pretty  reasonable  salary,  and 
very  likely  I  gave  him  to  understand  that  he  was  at  liberty 
to  use  any  waste  time  that  was  left  over  from  his  work 
here  in  making  his  own  little  fling.  .  I  suppose  you're 
going  to  report  that  he's  been  rather  liberal  in  his  con- 
struction of  the  privilege.  I  thought  very  likely  he  would 
be  while  I  was  away.  I'm  usually  rewarded  for  taking  a 
kindly  interest  in  my  employees  by  being  swindled  in  that 
way." 

"I'm  not  worrying  at  all  about  his  wasting  his  time," 
the  Colonel  retorted  with  increasing  impatience.  "  Just  at 
present  I've  rather  larger  interests  at  stake  and,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  so  have  you.  What  I  did  think  you 
ought  to  know  was  that  he  has  taken  to  writing  leading 
articles  for  that  Socialist-Labor  sheet,  the  Transcript,  and 
that  they  have  already  begun  to  attract  considerable  atten- 
tion among  decent  people,  which  is  something  the  Tran- 
script has  never  succeeded  in  doing  before.     My  suspicions 


LEVERSON  HEARS  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     1 99 

were  first  aroused  by  seeing  Thallon  going  into  Ridley's 
office  one  day  last  week.  Later  Higgins,  who  was  down 
here  on  our  business,  called  my  attention  to  this  thing  I've 
cut  out  for  your  perusal,  signed,  as  you  see,  '  T.  O.,*  a 
reversal  of  the  young  fellow's  initials.  It's  not  at  all  diffi- 
cult to  see  its  drift.  It's  a  bid  for  uniting  the  labor  vote 
with  that  of  the  opposition." 

Leverson  took  the  column  and  a  half  of  newspaper  clip- 
ping which  the  Colonel  handed  him  across  the  table  with 
conflicting  feelings.  In  his  present  mood  he  would  rather 
have  enjoyed  seeing  the  Colonel  embarrassed  in  some  of 
his  pet  political  schemes,  but  there  was  a  suggestion  some- 
where in  that  gentleman's  manner  that  it  might  not  be 
altogether  to  his  own  advantage  that  they  should  be  so 
embarrassed.  He  committed  himself  by  no  comment  until 
he  should  have  more  light  on  this  all-important  point. 

"  I  don't  quite  see  Higgins's  interest  in  this  thing,"  he 
said,  holding  the  paper  between  his  thumb  and  finger  with- 
out reading  it. 

"Well,  it's  rather  vital,"  the  Colonel  returned  with  a 
smile  which  had  something  of  pity  in  it.  "In  strict  con- 
fidence, I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I've  promised  Higgins 
the  nomination  for  Congress  in  the  October  convention. 
I  needn't  tell  you,  of  course,  that  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances it's  the  same  thing  as  an  election.  We  have  a 
normal  plurality  of  about  four  thousand  in  the  district. 
The  labor  vote  is  anywhere  from  three  to  five.  If  it  were 
united  with  our  friends,  the  enemy,  it's  quite  easy  to  see 
that  the  nomination  which  goes  to  Mr.  Higgins  would  not 
be  quite  so  valuable  to  him." 

At  this  point  Leverson  rose  in  disgust,  tossing  the  slip 
of  paper  on  to  the  table.  At  no  time  in  his  long  relation- 
ship with  the  Colonel  had  he  ever  felt  such  a  virtuous 
indignation  against  him. 

"  Now  look  here,  Gilbreed,"  he  began  sternly,  and  using 


200  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

the  name  without  prefix  to  emphasize  his  contempt,  "  I 
want  you  to  distinctly  understand  that  I  don't  mix  myself 
up  in  your  politics.  Personally  I  care  no  more  about 
Higgins  getting  into  Congress  than  I  do  about  Higgins 
getting  into  jail.  My  private  opinion  is  that  the  last  would 
suit  him  quite  as  well  as  the  other.  He  may  get  into 
either  for  anything  I  care." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  the  Colonel  observed,  cooling  as  he 
invariably  did  under  the  other's  heat,  "  personally  I  don't 
care  either.  The  only  question  is  whether  you  and  I  can 
afford  to  jeopardize  the  Higgins  support  at  a  time  when 
that  support  is  absolutely  necessary  in  carrying  out  certain 
transactions  to  a  happy  conclusion.  Of  course  I  don't 
pretend  I  haven't  political  reasons  besides, — don't  pre- 
tend that  I  want  to  see  the  Fourth  Congressional  District 
go  over  to  the  enemy  under  my  leadership,  —  but  I  assure 
you  that's  quite  secondary  to  our  consolidation  interests." 

**  What  in  the  name  of  common  sense  has  that  got  to  do 
with  it .''  "  Leverson  demanded  angrily.  "  The  consolida- 
tion is  a  matter  of  contract  duly  signed  by  men  Higgins 
couldn't  control  if  he  tried.  We've  only  got  to  ratify  the 
thing  day  after  to-morrow  to  get  our  money.  You  know 
that  as  well  as  I  do." 

"You  mean  the  stock  —  not  the  money,"  corrected  the 
Colonel,  with  that  aggravating  smile  still  playing  about  his 
thin  lips.  "  The  sale  of  the  stock  at  one  hundred  and  forty- 
five,  or  any  other  figure,  is  not  a  matter  of  contract  at  all." 

"  No  !  We  only  have  your  word  for  that,"  Leverson 
sneered,  too  angry  to  notice  his  own  contradiction. 

"  And  a  much  better  security  than  any  contract  you've 
so  far  put  your  name  to,"  the  Colonel  returned  coolly, 
though  with  an  ominous  snap  of  the  eyes  which  might 
have  admonished  his  careless  son-in-law  that  he  was  going 
too  iar.  There  was  nothing  the  Colonel  more  prided  him- 
self upon  than  the  keeping  of  his  political  promises.     As 


LEVERSON   HEARS  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     201 

most  of  them,  from  their  very  nature,  could  not  be  re- 
corded in  writing,  his  existence  as  a  political  entity  was 
dependent  upon  his  doing  so. 

"  I  made  that  promise,"  he  went  on  with  impressive 
deliberation,  "  under  the  natural  supposition  that  you,  per- 
sonally, were  not  going  to  use  your  best  endeavors  to  block 
my  game.  If  you  are,  I  may  as  well  tell  you  now  — 
before  you  have  ratified  the  contract  or  in  any  way  com- 
mitted yourself  to  the  sale  of  the  Leverson  Car  Company  — 
that  my  selling  the  new  stock  rests  entirely  with  my  keep- 
ing in  with  Higgins.  I  don't  mean  he  can  help  me,  but 
he  can  very  easily  prevent  my  selling  it." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  my  blocking  your  game  ? " 
Leverson  demanded  haughtily,  though  with  a  slight 
modification  of  the  hostility  until  then  prominent  in  his 
voice  and  gesture  that  informed  the  Colonel  he  had  not 
labored  in  vain. 

"  Really,  Ashton,  I  think  what  I've  said  might  have 
made  that  clear  to  you,"  he  went  on.  "When  your 
confidential  clerk  undertakes  to  lead  the  labor  vote  of 
Brockton  —  until  now  placed  by  Divine  Providence  in  a 
situation  where  it  can  do  no  harm  —  over  to  the  enemy, 
and  when  you  consider  that  considerably  over  one-tenth  of 
that  vote  is  from  your  own  mills,  I  think  you  can  hardly 
claim  that  you  are  personally  indifferent  to  his  election. 
When  by  these  simple  means  you  have  reduced  Mr. 
Higgins's  little  perquisite  to  something  dangerously  near 
an  empty  compliment,  I  think  you'll  admit  the  gentleman 
might  feel,  with  reason,  that  he  had  not  been  treated  in 
good  faith.  You  ask  him — or  I  do  for  you,  which  is 
the  same  thing  —  to  assist  in  making  a  comfortable  little 
sum  of  money  for  you.  He  accepts  the  trust,  and  you 
return  the  compliment  by  doing  your  best  to  ruin  him. 
That  incidentally  you  are  doing  your  best  to  ruin  aae  is 
hardly  worth  mentioning." 


202  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  Now  come  !  Look  here  !  "  Leverson  put  in,  not  the 
more  pleasantly  because  he  felt  that  he  was  being  cor- 
nered. "  What  are  you  trying  to  make  me  do  ?  Dismiss 
Thallon  just  as  he's  beginning  to  prove  useful,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  the  Colonel  returned,  warming  im- 
mensely as  he  saw  he  was  getting  his  refractory  son-in-law 
well  in  hand,  "  that's  the  last  thing  I  want  you  to  do  if  it 
can  possibly  be  avoided.  If  you  throw  him  over,  he  goes 
at  once  into  the  arms  of  the  opposition,  who've  been  quick 
enough  to  see  that  he's  got  brains.  Why  is  it  he's  so 
awfully  close  to  Lindley  —  a  man  whose  vote  used  to  be- 
long to  the  party,  but  who's  lately  become  so  uncertain  that 
he's  not  likely  to  be  retained  as  coroner  after  November .-' 
Why  is  it  that  Mobray  Doniphan  —  who  knows  no  more  of 
politics  than  a  nursing  baby,  yet  whose  long  skinny  fingers 
are  mixed  up  in  everybody's  kettle  of  soup — has  put  up 
the  money  for  Lindley  to  buy  the  old  Watson  Farm  where 
I  understand  they're  to  build  model  tenements .''  I  tell  you 
I've  had  my  eye  on  this  thing  for  some  time,  and  it's  work- 
ing beautifully.  When  the  tenements  are  retailed  without 
profit  to  the  intelligent  mechanics  of  Brockton,  when  the 
monthly  payments  are  falling  due  and  the  honest  working- 
man  is  being  treated  with  every  consideration,  we  shall  be 
so  near  the  millennium  it  won't  be  worth  while  going  any 
farther.  Of  course  all  this  won't  be  in  working  order  by 
election,  but  it's  quite  on  the  cards  that  Doniphan  may  get 
the  Democratic  nomination  on  the  strength  of  it.  With 
young  Thallon  writing  articles  Uke  that  in  the  labor  paper, 
they  might  succeed,  and,  besides,  he's  really  too  good  a 
young  man  to  let  him  spoil  himself  in  that  way.  Now, 
naturally,  we  want  to  stop  all  this.  I  think  (with  proper 
management  and  some  reasonable  concessions) — I  think 
I  can  prevent  Doniphan's  getting  the  nomination.  That's 
my  business.  It's  for  you  to  detach  Thallon  from  this  un- 
worthy connection  and  bind  him  to  your  interests  in  a  way 


LEVERSON   HEARS  MUCH  ABOUT  OWEN  THALLON     203 

he's  not  liable  to  forget.  I  think  you  can  afford  to  raise  his 
salary  with  the  understanding  that  he  gives  up  his  entire 
time  to  your  work,  or  —  if  he  prefers  it,  and  must  air 
himself  in  print  —  there's  my  paper,  the  Harrisburg  Senti- 
nel. He  was  on  that  under  the  old  management  before  I 
bought  it  out,  and  would  have  given  all  his  old  shoes  to 
have  got  back  on  it  at  one  time.  I  could  give  him  a  good 
place  there,  even  in  connection  with  your  work,  and  I'll 
guarantee  that  if  he's  once  under  old  man  Neely,  he'll 
do  no  harm  to  himself  or  anybody  else.  You  really  must 
make  an  effort  in  this  matter,  Ashton,  if  it's  only  to  clear 
your  own  skirts." 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE   COLONEL   FACES   AN    UNEXPECTED   DEVELOPMENT 

The  grinding  of  wheels  on  the  gravel  below,  and  the 
rustle  of  somebody  else's  skirts  on  the  steps  of  the  side 
veranda,  here  broke  into  this  carefully  worded  admoni- 
tion and  called  the  attention  of  both  gentlemen  to  the 
arrival  of  the  phaeton,  which,  in  charge  of  the  groom,  was 
just  disappearing  around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

The  suggestion  of  annoyance  at  the  interruption,  visible 
for  an  instant  on  the  Colonel's  face,  faded  away  as  his  eyes 
absorbed  a  radiant  vision  in  pink  silk  and  Irish  lace,  which 
a  moment  later  advanced  across  the  wide  floor  of  the 
veranda  toward  them. 

"  I  believe  you  have  both  forgotten  that  it's  nearly  six 
o'clock  and  that  the  Faucons  take  tea  at  Elmhurst  to-night 
at  sharp  seven,"  the  radiant  vision  announced  in  a  delight- 
fully girlish  voice  which  had  a  little  ripple  of  laughter  run- 
ning through  it.  "  Or  still  worse,  perhaps  you've  forgotten 
it's  Sunday.  I  came  on  in  the  phaeton,  because  the  Faucon 
carriage  only  holds  four,  to  throw  myself  on  your  kindly 
hospitality.  Glad  to  see  it's  spiritual  as  well  as  material," 
she  ended,  glancing  at  the  table,  as  with  a  Uttle  nod  of 
thanks  she  took  the  chair  Leverson  placed  for  her. 

"  As  this  kind  of  refreshment  is  not  exactly  in  your  line, 
I  should  be  glad  if  you'd  let  me  ring  for  tea  and  cake,  or 
whatever  the  proper  combination  is  that  suits  the  feminine 
palate,"  Leverson  put  in  genially  with  one  of  his  loud 
laughs.     He  was  always  gracious  to  Hilda  Faucon,  who  at 

204 


COLONEL  FACES  AN   UNEXPECTED   DEVELOPMENT     205 

eighteen  was  distinctly  handsome,  with  the  dark  hair  and 
eyes  of  the  Faucons,  though  she  had  the  irregular  Doni- 
phan mouth,  with  that  curious  little  quirk  in  the  comer 
which  gave  her  Uncle  Mobray  his  sinister  expression. 
In  Hilda  it  suggested  only  a  delightful  wickedness. 

"This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,"  the  Colonel  put  in 
pleasantly;  "they  told  me  you  were  in  Philadelphia." 

"  So  I  was ;  but  I  never  promised  to  stay  there.  I  came 
home  last  night  because  a  Faucon  cannot,  of  course,  travel 
on  Sunday.  I  was  with  the  Farleys,  you  know,  in  Arch 
Street." 

"  Brent  Farley  .•'  Grand  Army  man.  Made  his  money 
in  oil,"  the  Colonel  put  in  by  way  of  identification. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  Salad  oil,"  Hilda  nodded  comprehen- 
sively. "  Mrs.  Farley  makes  it  into  delicious  mayonnaise 
and  they  have  it  for  lunch." 

"  No,  no,  oil  wells,"  the  Colonel  corrected  gently. 

"Really!     How   awfully    jolly!"  Hilda    beamed.      "I 

always  supposed  that  they  got  it  by  the  bottle,"  she  went 

on  gravely,  seeing  the  attention  in  Leverson's  face.     "  Just 

imagine  the  old  oaken  bucket  full  of  freshly  drawn  oil  for 

lunch :  — 

The  moss-covered  bucket  which  hung  in  the  oil  well. 

What  an  improvement  on  Woodworth.  Reggie  should 
have  told  me  about  it  when  he  was  there.  We  saw  a  great 
deal  of  him,  by  the  way.  What  in  the  world  do  you  sup- 
pose took  him  to  Phillie  at  this  time  of  year }  " 

"  I  can't  imagine,"  the  Colonel  said,  smiling  across  at  her. 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  I !  "  the  young  lady  returned  with  reck- 
less candor,  "  He  was  there  two  days  before  we  ever  laid 
eyes  on  him.  He  says  he  came  to  arrange  for  the  Autumn 
Water  Color,  which  would  be  more  comprehensible  if  he 
ever  painted  in  water  color,  or  the  exhibition  could  possibly 
be  arranged  for  in  July.  Between  ourselves  Reggie  is  not 
at  all  good  at  fiction." 


206  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

As  it  was  the  opinion  of  both  gentlemen  present  that 
Reggie  was  not  especially  good  at  anything,  —  an  opinion 
which  for  obvious  reasons  could  not  be  expressed,  —  there 
was  no  immediate  rejoinder  to  this  assertion. 

The  Colonel  was  not  in  the  least  adverse  to  a  possible 
Faucon  connection.  Mrs.  Faucon  had  had  her  share  of 
the  Doniphan  money,  and  the  balance  of  it  would,  in  the 
natural  course  of  things,  revert  to  Hilda.  Should  it  sub- 
sequently revert  to  Reggie,  it  would,  beyond  question,  go 
where  it  would  do  the  most  good.  The  arrival  of  the 
Faucon  carriage  presently  turned  Hilda's  loquacity  into 
other  channels  —  the  entire  party  betaking  themselves  to 
the  long  stretch  of  lawn  below  the  house  which  the  sinking 
sun  had  by  this  time  left  sufficiently  cool  for  comfort. 

The  Rector  of  the  ancient  parish  of  St.  Stephen's  was  a 
tall,  thin,  and  rather  frail-looking  man,  with  a  finely  cut, 
intellectual  face,  set  in  a  well-shaped  head  —  a  head  cov- 
ered at  fifty-five  by  a  mass  of  fine  iron-gray  hair  in  sharp 
contrast  to  a  pair  of  nearly  coal-black  eyes  which  shed  a 
rather  cold  light  from  under  delicately  arched  brows. 
They  matched  in  this  a  rather  cold  manner,  which  became 
the  more  noticeable  when  he  found  himself  out  of  harmony 
with  his  surroundings,  as  to  a  certain  extent  he  did  now, 
while  sauntering  across  the  lawn  with  Margaret,  who  was 
talking  rapidly. 

The  Reverend  Cuthbert  Faucon,  if  he  still  adhered  to 
the  proprieties  in  occasionally  supping  with  these  very  sub- 
stantial parishioners  of  his,  did  so  much  more  largely  out 
of  deference  to  his  own  conscience  or  to  the  wishes  of  that 
very  positive  woman,  Miss  Laurie,  than  for  any  pleasure 
or  profit  he  ever  expected  to  get  out  of  it.  In  the  secret 
places  of  the  Reverend  Cuthbert's  soul,  Ashton  Leverson's 
nominal  Churchmanship,  which  turned  in  a  certain  definite 
financial  support  to  a  parish  always  in  need  of  funds,  was 
much  more  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  than  the  open  backsliding 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED  DEVELOPMENT     20/ 

of  his  brother-in-law,  Mobray  Doniphan,  whose  contribu- 
tions went  elsewhere. 

The  thing  which  had  come  nearest  moving  him  out  of 
his  usual  calm  placidity  had  been  his  niece's  marriage  to 
this  young  heir  of  John  Leverson's  money,  —  a  marriage 
the  announcement  of  which  had  vibrated  through  him  dis- 
agreeably, as  if  it  had  been  an  echo  of  his  own  sister's  mar- 
riage with  the  Colonel  twenty  years  before,  though  openly 
he  had  no  more  opposed  the  one  than  he  had  the  other. 

Mrs.  Faucon,  whose  sole  object  in  life  was  to  make 
things  comfortable,  had  pointed  out  to  her  husband  in  the 
strict  privacy  of  their  chamber,  that  the  marriage  could 
hardly  fail  to  have  a  beneficial  effect  on  both  the  young 
people.  It  would  certainly  help  to  settle  Ashton,  whom 
even  this  optimistic  woman  admitted  sadly  needed  settling, 
and  it  might  very  well  be  the  means  of  reclaiming  Mar- 
garet from  what  her  aunt  designated  as  too  much  books  and 
star-gazing,  which  that  good  woman  went  on  to  remark 
was  the  direct  outcome  of  her  brother  Mobray's  injudicious 
encouragement. 

At  that  time  it  had  been  a  secret  fear  in  Mrs.  Faucon's 
ample  bosom  that  Margaret  would  in  time,  if  she  went 
on  unchecked,  become  more  bookish  than  the  Rector  and 
her  brother  Mobray  combined, —  a  blasphemy  which  she 
now  had  the  satisfaction  of  feeling  had  been  happily 
averted,  and  even  more  largely  than  she  knew,  through  the 
influence  of  the  Leverson  marriage. 

It  may  possibly  have  struck  the  Rector  this  evening,  as 
he  stood  a  little  apart  listening  to  what  his  niece  had  to 
say,  that  if  she  had  become  more  properly  conscious  of 
masculine  superiority,  she  was  certainly  no  less  ardent  in 
the  conception  and  carrying  out  of  certain  opinions  she 
appeared  to  hold,  on  topics  not  usually  considered  discuss- 
able by  women.  He  was  very  fond  of  Margaret  and  in  a 
way  rather  proud  of  her,  but  she  was  certainly  too  startling 


208  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

in  her  opinions,  and  there  were  times  when  he  v/ished  she 
were  not  quite  so  insistent,  a  quaUty,  however,  it  seemed 
useless  to  combat,  seeing  that  her  marriage  with  Leverson 
had  not  sufficed  to  take  that  out  of  her  along  with  her 
other  blemishes. 

"  It  seems  to  me  a  horrible  thing,"  she  was  saying,  her 
eyes  bright  with  suppressed  excitement.  "The  man  Dupr6 
was  here  last  Wednesday  to  see  Ashton,  who,  as  you  know, 
was  away  at  the  time.  He  seemed  absurdly  possessed 
with  the  idea  that  Ashton  could  help  him  to  find  his  daugh- 
ter. He  was  very  much  excited,  almost  incoherent,  talking 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  in  his  very  bad  French  and  worse 
EngUsh." 

"  If  he  wants  to  keep  his  daughter's  name  out  of  the 
papers,  that  was  very  unwise  of  him.  The  story  may  easily 
get  into  less  scrupulous  hands  than  ours,"  her  uncle  said 
in  a  tone  tinctured  with  a  shade  of  disgust, 

"Surely  it  seems  as  if  something  ought  to  be  done, —  I 
mean  by  people  like  ourselves,  —  with  resources  to  mitigate 
if  we  cannot  avert  such  things,"  Margaret  went  on,  too 
completely  wrapped  in  her  theme  to  notice  her  uncle's 
expression. 

"  I  know  of  no  field  more  largely  filled,"  Cuthbert  Fau- 
con  returned  in  a  tone  of  fatherly  correction.  "  Our  own 
Church,  as  you  know  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  question  that,"  Margaret  put  in  hastily. 
"  I  was  thinking  more  of  our  outside  influence  as  men  and 
women.  We  keep  ourselves  so  separate,  so  far  away  from 
such  people.  We  share  a  creed,  but  not  our  lives  with 
them." 

"They  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  embraced  a  creed 
which  they  make  an  effort  to  live  up  to,"  her  uncle  re- 
turned in  his  level  voice.  "  These  people,  1  suppose,  from 
the  name,  are  Romanists,  yet  the  magnificent  discipline  of 
that  Church  is  not  sufficient  to  hold  them  within  the  bounds 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED   DEVELOPMENT     209 

of  the  most  ordinary  morality.  Nor  do  I  see  that  the 
obliteration  of  social  distinctions  would  be  any  influence 
for  good  in  that  direction.  The  French  Revolution  which 
wiped  out  such  distinctions  wiped  out  also  eighteen  centu- 
ries of  Christian  civilization  including  all  reverence  for  God. 
The  crying  need  of  the  hour  is  not  more  liberty  nor  more 
social  equality,  but  a  greater  respect  for  authority  and  a 
more  complete  supremacy  of  law." 

"I  was  not  thinking  of  a  socialism  of  force,"  Margaret 
said  sadly,  "  and  I  dare  say  my  wishes  in  the  matter  are 
rather  vague  and  shadowy.     I — " 

"  My  dear  girl,  your  wishes  are  never  vague,"  Mrs. 
Faucon  here  broke  in,  as  moving  slowly  toward  her  lawn 
chair  they  had  come  within  hearing.  "  I  tell  Mobray 
you're  the  only  woman  in  existence,  not  merely  in  Brock- 
ton, who's  capable  of  managing  him.  Since  your  last 
appearance  at  the  Hill  Farm  he's  improved  wonderfully, 
I'm  glad  to  see  there's  nothing  incompatible  between  your 
assisting  him  with  his  Italian  and  reminding  him  to  brush 
his  hair.  If  things  go  on  in  this  way,  we  shall  have  him 
giving  afternoon  teas." 

"  Wouldn't  that  be  jolly  !  "  Hilda  exclaimed  with  enthu- 
siasm, getting  up  from  her  seat  to  greet  Mildred,  who  just 
then  made  her  appearance. 

"  I  wish  you'd  arrange  it,"  Miss  Gilbreed  returned 
placidly.  "  Brockton  hasn't  been  any  too  brilliant  this  last 
week,  though  now  Ashton's  consented  to  honor  us  with 
his  presence  again,  we  may,  perhaps,  have  some  yachting." 

"  Provided  the  entertainment  includes  something  for  my 
poor  little  empty  stomach,  Mimsey  meo,  I  give  my  hand 
and  my  heart  to  this  vote,"  Hilda  exclaimed,  pulling  the 
other  girl  down  beside  her  on  the  garden  bench  and  slipping 
an  affectionate  arm  around  her. 

Leverson,  who  had  been  making  the  Rector  comfortable 
by  means  of  a  wicker  chair  and  a  cigar,  glanced  up  respon- 


210  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

sively.  Hilda  always  had  the  power  of  reducing  his  blue 
devils  to  a  minimum,  and  she  was  usually  willing  to  exert 
this  benign  influence  without  exacting  anything  in  return, 
as  Mildred  would  have  done.  Even  in  the  presence  of  the 
Colonel  (who  could  not  so  completely  efface  himself  in 
Mrs.  Faucon's  substantial  shadow  as  not  to  be  more  or 
less  a  reminder  of  disagreeable  business  details),  Leverson 
began  to  feel  quite  himself  again. 

They  sat  there  rather  late  in  the  waning  light  of  the 
summer  evening,  the  Rector's  health  not  permitting  him  to 
officiate  more  than  twice  a  day,  which  left  St.  Stephen's  in 
charge  of  Mr.  Griggs,  the  curate,  for  the  evening  service. 

By  the  time  they  had  gathered  about  the  long  mahogany 
table  under  the  soft  lamplight,  and  the  Rector  had  given 
thanks  for  what  he  was  going  to  receive,  which,  not  being 
addressed  to  himself,  struck  Leverson  as  misplaced,  the 
talk  was  very  general,  and  one  member  of  the  company, 
at  least,  in  high  spirits. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  etiquette  required  Mrs.  Faucon's 
solid  rampart  of  amiability  on  Leverson's  right,  Hilda's 
brilliant  coloring  and  audacious  speech  on  his  left  made  a 
very  pleasant  contrast  to  Mildred's  pink-and-white  placidity 
farther  down  the  table.  That  he  had  a  more  or  less  dis- 
agreeable interview  with  a  delinquent  clerk  on  the  morrow 
had  quite  passed  out  of  his  memory  under  the  influence  of 
Miss  Faucon's  cheerful  chatter. 

"  You're  really  mistaken  about  this  not  being  the  best 
season  in  town,"  she  was  remarking  to  Miss  Laurie.  "  The 
thermometer  only  stood  at  par,  and  the  supply  of  soda  water 
was  as  unlimited  as  —  " 

"  One  of  the  Colonel's  corporations,"  Leverson  suggested. 

"  We  don't  water  our  stocks  that  way,"  the  latter  put 
in  with  complete  good  nature;  "it's  too  expensive." 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  does  cost.  Of  course  the  men 
paid  for  it,"  Hilda  returned  dispassionately.     "  The  place 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED  DEVELOPMENT  211 

was  full  of  them,  —  men,  I  mean,  poor  lonely  men,  whose 
hearts  were  away  at  summer  resorts,  leaving  them  sweetly 
pensive  and  delightfully  companionable.  There's  nothing," 
she  went  on,  taking  the  entire  table  into  her  confidence, 
because  they  all  seemed  interested,  "  there's  nothing  I 
enjoy  more  than  being  somebody's  (almost  anybody's) 
second-best  girl.     The  position's  so  safe,  so  satisfying." 

"  Like  a  second  mortgage,"  the  Colonel  remarked ;  "  one 
doesn't  dare  foreclose  till  the  first  one's  out  of  the  way." 

"  Oh,  Hilda !  How  can  you ! "  Mrs.  Faucon  put  in 
reproachfully,  though  with  evident  enjoyment. 

"  But  the  first  was  out  of  the  way,"  Mildred  said  softly, 
smiling  across  at  the  delinquent. 

"Only  geographically,  Mimsey  dear,  and  coming  back 
at  that.  The  Parleys  were  only  in  town  themselves  on 
their  way  through  to  the  seashore,  where  I'm  to  join  them 
in  August,  but  Brockton  was  especially  well  represented  : 
The  Colonel  was  there  to  personify  our  politics,  Reggie 
did  very  well  for  the  fine  arts,  and  I  understand  Mr. 
Leverson  was  there  to  speak  for  literature." 

"  Most  unworthily,"  Leverson  put  in  modestly,  quite 
delighted  at  this  view  of  his  late  trip,  which  had  not 
occurred  to  him  before.  "  But  you  don't  tell  us  what  you 
represented." 

"  Oh,  I  stood  for  Brockton's  frivolity,  of  course,"  the 
girl  retorted  with  a  little  laugh.  "  I  should  have  ruined 
our  reputation  for  serious  thought  if  my  baneful  influence 
hadn't  been  offset  by  a  fifth  Brocktonite  who  more  than 
made  it  up.  You'll  never  guess  who  it  was,  so  I  may  as 
well  tell  you.  That  Revivalist  —  the  man  with  the  fine  eyes 
and  terribly  sad  mouth.  I  saw  him  on  the  platform  last 
night  as  we  got  on  the  train." 

"  Did  he  come  alone } "  Leverson  asked  with  a  sudden 
change  from  amusement  to  real  interest ;  then  conscious 
that  this  hunger  for  detail  had  caused  the  girl's  eyes  to 


212  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

regard  him  curiously,  he  added  quickly,  "  those  people 
usually  go  about  in  squads,  don't  they,  with  bands  and 
things  ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  That's  the  Salvation  Army,"  Mildred  put  in 
correctingly.  "  Though  I  suppose  if  you  leave  out  the 
drum  and  the  uniform,  these  people  are  very  much  like 
them." 

"  I'm  afraid  all  such  so-called  religious  movements  are 
purely  emotional,"  Mr.  Faucon  put  in  in  his  deliberate  voice, 
though  he  smiled  across  at  the  last  speaker.  "  Mr.  Griggs 
tells  me  that  this  man,  Meyer  I  believe  the  name  is,  is 
well  meaning,  but  completely  ignorant." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  be  able  to  correct  Mr.  Griggs  there," 
Margaret  remarked  from  behind  the  tea  urn.  "  Mr.  Doni- 
phan, who  has  taken  a  good  deal  of  interest  in  him,  has 
been  making  inquiries  both  of  Meyer  himself  and  some 
others.  He  turns  out  to  be  a  graduate  of  Gottingen,  and 
later  a  candidate  for  the  Lutheran  ministry,  where  they 
refused  him  ordination  because  he  held  to  the  doctrine 
that  the  ultimate  source  of  appeal  in  religious  matters  must 
be  the  individual  conscience." 

"  I  had  no  idea  the  Lutherans  were  so  level  headed," 
Mr.  Faucon  remarked  coldly,  the  word  "  correct "  in 
Margaret's  mouth  not  striking  him  as  a  proper  one  to  be 
applied  to  the  clergy,  even  such  an  inferior  part  of  the 
clergy  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Griggs.  "  The  fact  that  in  view 
of  some  of  Luther's  own  preaching  they  were  slightly  in- 
consistent need  hardly  be  brought  up  against  them,  even 
if  the  story  should  turn  out  to  be  true.  I  am  not  at  all 
surprised  that  the  man  came  here  —  only  surprised  that  he 
has  not  found  a  more  comfortable  birth  than  an  unlicensed 
pastorate  over  a  following  in  all  probability  even  less 
amenable  to  authority  than  himself.  In  these  days,  espe- 
cially in  this  country,  such  men  are  usually  welcomed  with 
open  arms  by  sects  which  still   enjoy  calling  themselves 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED  DEVELOPMENT  213 

orthodox,  and  they  have  even  made  some  unscrupulous 
attempts  to  force  themselves  into  the  Church." 

"  If  they  would  only  go  away  and  not  talk  so  much," 
Mrs.  Faucon  put  in  plaintively,  "  one  wouldn't  mind ; 
but  what's  the  use  of  starting  missions  in  the  tenements, 
where  such  people  would  get  good  prayer-book  doctrine 
and  proper  oversight,  when  nobody  will  come  to  them,  and 
of  course  they  won't  come  when  these  sensational  preachers 
are  doing  their  best  to  keep  them  away.  And  poor  Mo- 
bray,  of  course,  has  to  go  and  encourage  them  for  no 
reason  in  the  world  except  that  they're  as  odd  as  himself, 
poor  man." 

Mrs.  Faucon's  thus  coming  to  the  aid  of  her  husband 
had  its  usual  effect  of  making  him  drop  the  subject  he  had 
been  so  ably  expounding,  —  a  source  of  secret  joy  to 
Leverson,  who  was  trying  to  catch  Hilda's  eye  that  he 
might  reproach  her  for  having  got  them  into  this  and 
suggest  her  getting  them  out  again. 

She  took  the  hint  with  marvellous  quickness,  —  oddly 
enough  more  through  filial  affection  than  anything  else, 
for  no  one  knew  better  than  she  that  the  Reverend 
Cuthbert  could  be  the  best  of  company  if  but  kept  on  safe 
to]jics.  She  not  only  did  that,  but  kept  the  entire  com- 
pany so  well  employed  that  when  at  the  end  of  this  in- 
formal meal  the  telephone  bell  rang  in  Leverson's  study, 
the  Colonel  was  obliged  to  answer  it  through  Leverson's 
default. 

Margaret  was  playing  with  her  teaspoon  to  fill  in, 
while  the  Rector  deliberately  finished  his  third  cup  of  tea, 
as  no  one  else  would  make  any  pretence  they  had  not 
finished  theirs  some  time  since.  Hilda,  feeling  she  had 
done  enough,  came  to  an  abrupt  pause,  just  as  they  heard 
the  Colonel  ejaculate,  "  Good  heavens  !  "  at  the  telephone 
in  the  next  room. 

This  expression,  being  rather  emotional  for  that  passion- 


214  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

less  instrument,  made  the  pause  general.  Even  perfectly 
well-bred  people  have  no  hesitation  in  listening  to  a  tele- 
phonic conversation  not  especially  addressed  to  them.  A 
man  talking  into  a  hole  in  the  wall  seems  bereft  of  any 
individual  right  of  privacy.  Besides,  you  only  hear  half 
of  it  and  have  got  to  guess  the  rest,  which  makes  it  inter- 
esting, as  if  it  were  some  kind  of  a  round  game. 

The  Colonel's  next  words  did  not  lessen  the  interest. 

"  Not  killed,  I  hope  .?  " 

(Long  pause.) 

"  Yes.     Yes,  I  know." 

(Another  pause.) 

"  What !     Not  Margaret !  " 

(Longest  pause.) 

"  Well,  well,  some  of  us  will  come,  of  course,  as  soon 
as  possible.  Shameful  thing !  Had  no  business  to  be 
there  —  good-by." 

Leverson  pushed  back  his  chair.  The  Rector  set  down 
his  cup  and  turned,  as  every  one  else  had  already  turned, 
to  look  at  the  Colonel  who  stood  in  the  doorway,  his  eyes 
fixed  on  Ashton  with  a  considering  interest  as  if  he  were 
turning  something  over  in  his  mind. 

"  Well,  what  is  it .''  "  Leverson  demanded  impatiently. 

"It  was  Reggie — telephoned,"  the  Colonel  rejoined 
slowly,  recovering  his  tongue ;  "  and  about  that  young 
man  we  were  discussing  this  afternoon,  —  your  clerk, 
Thallon." 

Leverson,  here  glancing  at  Miss  Laurie  without  clearly 
knowing  why,  followed  that  lady's  eyes  which  were  fixed, 
not  on  the  Colonel,  but  on  Margaret. 

Mrs.  Leverson  had  paled  slightly  at  the  mention  of  her 
brother's  name,  as  she  followed  the  Colonel  with  absorbed 
attention. 

"  He,  Thallon,  was  attacked  an  hour  or  so  ago  in  that 
vile  hole  they  call   Brockton   Corners,  —  down   near   the 


COLONEL  FACES  AN   UNEXPECTED   DEVELOPMENT     21$ 

Junction,  you  know,"  the  latter  went  on  more  briskly. 
"  What  he  was  doing  in  such  a  place  at  that  hour  is  more 
than  I  can  make  out,  for  Reggie  seems  to  know  nothing 
of  the  details,  —  only  reports  that  Mr.  Doniphan  found 
him  there,  and  with  the  aid  of  some  of  the  men  got  him 
on  to  the  eight  o'clock  train.  Reggie  happened  to  be  on 
it  coming  home,  so  he  lent  a  hand  getting  him  to  the 
hospital.  After  they  got  him  there,  he  recovered  con- 
sciousness for  a  moment  and  asked  to  see  Mrs.  Leverson." 

As  the  Colonel  vouchsafed  this  piece  of  information, 
Leverson's  eyes  went  back  again  to  the  lower  end  of  the 
table,  and  this  time  they  travelled  in  company  with  all  the 
other  eyes  in  the  room,  even  the  carefully  veiled  eyes 
of  the  astute  Morgan.  People  in  that  exclusive  circle 
waited  on  by  Morgan  and  his  kind  are  not  supposed  to 
express  surprise  at  the  unexpected,  but  at  the  moment 
there  was  the  slightest  possible  shifting  of  shoulders,  as 
well  as  a  turning  of  heads,  which  in  a  less  refined  society 
would  doubtless  have  been  accompanied  with  other  signs 
of  curiosity. 

Leverson  himself,  never  having  profited  by  Morgan's 
training,  openly  showed  not  only  curiosity,  but  consider- 
able amusement. 

"  Reggie's  cracked,"  he  observed  to  the  Colonel,  though 
he  still  kept  his  eyes  on  his  wife.  "  The  man  may  have 
asked  for  me  (though  I  wish  he  hadn't),  but  as  for  his 
wanting  Margaret,  that's  a  little  too  cool,  even  for  him. 
One  would  suppose  we'd  adopted  him  into  the  family.  I 
say,  you  didn't  adopt  him  while  I  was  away,  did  you, 
Madge .? " 

Leverson  put  in  this  last  touch  of  light  and  agreeable 
banter  as  if  it  had  been  a  happy  afterthought,  glancing 
around  at  the  assembled  company  as  if  inviting  them  to 
enjoy  the  joke.  Nevertheless,  he  addressed  the  question 
directly  to  Margaret,  —  so  directly  as  to  make  it  marked  if 


2l6  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

she  did  not  answer  it.  As  a  bid  for  appreciation  the  pleas- 
antry was  not  a  success.  Nobody  laughed.  It  struck 
Hilda  Faucon  as  the  most  offensive  thing  she  had  ever 
heard  Ashton  Leverson  say.  She  had  only  seen  the  more 
agreeable  side  of  him  until  then. 

Margaret  sat  there  rigid  and  cold  for  an  instant  before 
she  ventured  to  speak,  but  that  was  her  only  sign  of  em- 
barrassment. When  she  found  her  words,  they  were  to  the 
point,  though  she  ignored  the  pleasantry. 

"  As  we  are  among  the  few  people  in  Brockton  Mr. 
Thallon  can  be  said  to  know,  it  does  not  strike  me  as  so 
very  unnatural  that  he  should  have  asked  for  us  at  a  time 
like  this,"  she  said  gravely.  "  Are  you  sure  he  included 
me  ? "  she  asked,  turning  to  her  father. 

"  Reggie  was  very  positive  as  to  that,  for  I  made  him 
repeat  it,"  the  Colonel  rejoined  easily,  though  he  was 
conscious  that  he  had  unwittingly  stumbled  on  one  of  the 
family  jars.  "  But  as  to  that,"  he  went  on  with  a  desire  to 
make  things  comfortable,  "  there's  no  earthly  reason  why 
you  should  go  if  you  don't  want  to.  The  poor  fellow  was 
quite  out  of  his  head  and  might  have  asked  for  the  Queen 
of  Sheba." 

"  Oh,  I  wouldn't  think  of  going  !  "  Mrs.  Faucon  expostu- 
lated. "  You  never  know  what  horrible  diseases  they 
have  in  such  places.  Mobray  keeps  me  in  a  perfect 
twitter,  he  spends  so  much  of  his  time  there,  and  even 
Hilda  insists  on  going  because  she  belongs  to  the  'Shut  In 
Society';  as  if  she  couldn't  do  good  in  the  world  without 
exposing  her  family  to  small-pox." 

"  Really,  Leverson,"  the  Colonel  broke  in  with  some 
impatience,  "leaving  Margaret  out  of  the  question,  I  don't 
see  how/^«  can  very  well  absent  yourself  under  the  cir- 
cumstances ;  but  if  you  like,  I'll  go  with  you.  I  reckon 
it's  pretty  serious.  Reggie  seems  convinced  the  man's 
dying." 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED  DEVELOPMENT     21/ 

The  word  "dying,"  even  as  uttered  in  the  Colonel's 
brisk,  matter-of-fact  voice,  fell  like  a  cold  chill  in  the 
warm,  close  room.  The  inhabitants  of  a  mill  town  are 
usually  more  or  less  acquainted  with  violence  though  not 
quite  in  such  an  unexpected  form,  —  for  usually  it  comes 
in  the  train  of  long-drawn-out  industrial  troubles,  suffi- 
ciently heralded.  Even  the  self-contained  Rector  rose  to 
his  feet  somewhat  hastily. 

"  This  is  horrible  ! "  he  ejaculated,  looking  at  the  Colo- 
nel as  if  he  blamed  him  for  the  whole  affair.  "  Is  any 
one  suspected  ?  Can  they  imagine  any  motive  for  such  an 
attack  ? " 

"  I  doubt  if  they  spent  much  time  imagining  anything," 
the  Colonel  replied  easily,  "  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  the 
motive  isn't  far  to  seek.  That  Slathers  gang  are  not  very 
far  back  of  this.  There's  been  mutterings  of  renewed 
trouble  lately,  and  Thallon,  as  Leverson's  man,  would  be 
an  easy  mark,  —  which  makes  his  going  to  such  a  place  so 
much  the  less  sensible."  The  Colonel  felt  himself,  as  a 
man  of  action,  at  a  distinct  advantage  over  the  Rector  in 
an  emergency  such  as  the  present. 

"  I  think  we'd  better  be  going,"  he  added,  turning  to 
Leverson  again.  "  Morgan  can  order  the  carriage ;  it 
will  save  time." 

Perhaps  there  was  something  in  the  Colonel's  smile 
which  irritated  the  Rector,  for  he  interrupted  with  a  touch 
of  assertion :  "  I  remember  this  young  man  very  well.  I 
have  seen  him  at  St.  Stephen's  several  times.  I  shall  cer- 
tainly go  with  you." 

"  Surely  not  in  this  night  air,  Cuthbert,"  Mrs.  Faucon 
put  in,  almost  tearful  under  the  excitement. 

As  there  was  no  other  air  to  go  home  in,  and  as  he  had 
not  been  invited  to  stay  all  night  at  Elmhurst,  the  Rector 
did  not  think  it  necessary  to  answer  this  argument  Mrs. 
Faucon  compromised  by  declaring  that  "  if  Cuthbert  must 


2l8  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

go  and  as  Margaret  was  so  upset,"  she  and  Hilda  had 
better  go  home  at  once.  Whereupon  the  Rectory  carriage 
was  also  ordered,  and  there  was  a  general  movement 
toward  the  drawing-room. 

Leverson  had  again  glanced  at  his  wife  at  that  assertion 
of  Mrs.  Faucon's,  —  a  very  unjust  assertion  apparently,  — 
for  he  had  never  seen  her  colder  in  manner,  though  her 
face  beneath  its  crown  of  dusky  hair  still  lacked  color.  As 
for  him,  he  felt  nothing  more  complex  than  that  first  sen- 
sation of  annoyance  which  the  Colonel's  mention  of  Thal- 
lon's  name  just  now  had  given  him.  This  omnipresent 
clerk  of  his  had  managed  already  to  spoil  his  morning  and 
his  afternoon,  and  now  (still  without  taking  the  trouble  to 
appear  before  his  employer  in  the  flesh)  had  got  himself 
knocked  on  the  head  with  the  apparent  purpose  of  spoiling 
the  evening.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it.  The  man  was 
so  mixed  up  in  his  own  affairs  he  —  Leverson  —  had  got  to 
take  some  notice  of  it ;  he  saw  that  clearly  enough  in  the 
corner  of  the  Colonel's  eye. 

Margaret  was  busying  herself  in  assisting  Mrs.  Faucon 
into  her  bonnet,  a  massive  creation  in  black  jet,  that 
would  have  required  delicate  handling  even  if  Mrs.  Faucon 
could  have  been  prevailed  upon  to  keep  her  head  still  and 
had  not  talked  incessantly.  Margaret  remembered  after- 
ward how  much  care  she  had  spent  in  getting  it  straight, 
perhaps  out  of  gratitude  to  her  aunt  for  going  home  so 
promptly. 

Mrs.  Leverson  had  just  completed  this  labor  when  she 
followed  her  husband  into  the  hall  where  he  had  gone  to 
find  his  hat.  Both  carriages  would  be  there  in  a  moment. 
The  time  was  very  short  in  which  to  ask  that  question 
which  she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  ask  at  any  cost  of 
humiliation  to  herself. 

He  did  not  notice  that  her  lips  were  slightly  compressed, 
her  dark  eyes  unusually  brilliant     He  was  not  a  man  to 


COLONEL  FACES  AN  UNEXPECTED  DEVELOPMENT     219 

see  little  things  like  that,  though  if  he  had,  he  would  have 
set  it  down  to  feminine  hysteria.  What  did  strike  him  was 
that  she  had  suddenly  dropped  that  stand-offishness  of 
manner  which  had  so  enraged  him  since  his  return  home, 
—  a  perception  which  gave  him  keen  enjoyment,  for  it 
proved  conclusively  that  he  had  gotten  the  better  of  her. 

She  went  up  to  him  speaking  rather  hurriedly  and  in  a 
lowered  voice,  for  the  others  might  join  them  at  any 
moment. 

"  I  can't  help  feeling  that  I  ought  to  go.  Even  if  he 
had  not  asked  to  see  me,  I  should  feel  that;  for  he  is 
dying,  and  he  has  met  his  death  through  us,  though  not 
through  any  fault  of  ours.  At  such  a  time  a  woman  might 
be  of  use;  I  could  wait  in  the  carriage  if  I  were  not 
needed,  —  if  he  were  again  unconscious,  —  if  he  did  not 
ask  for  me.  I  have  always  been  good  at  nursing  and  am 
perfectly  cool.     You  do  not  object  to  my  going,  do  you  ? " 

Though  her  words  were  rapid  they  betrayed  an  under- 
tone of  hesitation  quite  unlike  her,  as  if  she  were  seeking 
reasons  which  would  have  weight  with  him ;  but  at  the 
end  she  broke  into  simple  appeal  as  if  she  had  already 
perceived  the  uselessness  of  any  argument. 

'^Really,  you're  very  kind,"  he  observed,  breaking  into 
a  short  dry  laugh  which  fitted  badly  with  the  subject  they 
discussed,  "  very  kind  indeed,  but  I  should  say  the  family 
was  sufficiently  represented  already.  Reggie,  as  usual,  has 
probably  grossly  exaggerated  the  thing,  for  which  he  will 
not  get  his  uncle's  ecclesiastical  blessing  when  Faucon 
finds  it  out ;  but  quite  apart  from  that,  the  Brockton  Hos- 
pital is  well  supplied  with  nurses,  I  believe.  My  advice 
to  you  is  to  go  to  bed  and  forget  all  about  it.  I  wish  to 
Heaven  I  could." 

She  stepped  back  from  him  as  if  he  had  struck  her,  her 
face  deadly  white,  her  hands  clinched :  — 

*'  I  s^//  go !  "  she  said  in  a  low,  tense  voice. 


220  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  advise  you  not  to  —  for  your  own  sake,"  he  retorted 
with  a  significant  glance  not  devoid  of  malice.  "  Good 
night." 

Margaret  saw  her  visitors  away  without  forgetting  any 
of  the  proprieties.  Hilda's  parting  with  her  was  a  shade 
more  affectionate  than  usual,  though  Hilda  was  naturally 
demonstrative.  There  was  only  two  years'  difference  be- 
tween them,  yet  Margaret  felt  like  an  old  woman  as  she 
returned  the  girl's  kiss.  It  was  perhaps  fortunate  that 
she  did  not  realize  she  was  being  pitied.  Margaret's  pride 
was  not  yet  quite  dead,  though  she  thought  it  was. 

When  she  went  back  into  the  house,  Mildred  had  already 
gone  upstairs,  and  Miss  Laurie  was  reading  St.  Peter's 
description  of  a  burning  world  by  the  light  of  a  lamp  hot 
enough  to  have  made  it  realistic.  Without  speaking,  the 
girl  passed  on  into  Leverson's  study,  which  was  cold  by 
contrast,  and  stood  by  the  open  window  looking  out  wearily 
at  the  calm  summer  night. 

Yet  she  took  note  neither  of  the  black,  purple,  star- 
strewn  sky  which  showed  above  the  massed  trees  beyond 
the  lawn,  nor  of  the  dim  lustre  of  the  stars  themselves 
that  made  its  depths  vibrate  with  ceaseless  life  ;  saw  noth- 
ing beyond  the  vision  of  another  life  as  she  had  known 
it  but  a  day  or  two  before  in  its  perfect  strength.  It  had 
been  so  full  then  to  overflowing  with  plans  and  hopes 
for  the  future.  And  she  who  had  no  future  of  her  own 
was  still  living  —  and  he  lay  dying  among  strangers. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A   FALSE   STEP 

Three  gentlemen  descending  the  hospital  staircase 
paused  for  an  instant  at  the  door,  while  Gillis  the  jani- 
tor was  calling  the  carriages.  All  three  looked  fagged ; 
Faucon  worried,  Gilbreed  thoughtful,  Leverson  distinctly 
sleepy, 

"  I'm  by  no  means  certain,"  the  Rector  was  saying  to 
his  brother-in-law,  "  that  I  should  not  remain.  He  may 
recover  consciousness  at  any  time  and  ask  for  spiritual 
advice." 

"  He'll  ask  for  nothing  before  morning,  you  can  depend 
on  that,"  the  Colonel  returned  with  conviction.  "  You'd 
better  go  home  to  Abby,  who's  probably  worried  to  death 
about  you.  They  can  telephone  you  at  any  time  if  they 
want  you,  which  isn't  likely.  You've  certainly  done  your 
best  to  keep  in  with  your  constituents,  —  I  mean  you've 
done  your  duty  by  the  Church.  In  short,  we've  all  shown 
a  very  proper  interest  in  coming  here,  though  I  wish,"  he 
added  in  a  lower  tone,  glancing  regretfully  at  his  son-in- 
law, —  "though  I  wish  Ashton  hadn't  gone  to  sleep." 

The  gentleman  referred  to,  who  was  engaged  at  the 
moment  in  lighting  a  cigar  to  get  the  smell  of  carbolic  out 
of  his  nose,  straightened  himself  to  return  the  criticism. 

"  Look  here,"  he  demanded,  ignoring  the  Colonel's 
reproach,  "  what  put  it  into  your  head  to  send  for  White- 
law  ?     What  has  he  got  to  do  with  Thallon  ? " 

"  I  sent  for  him  largely  because  he  seems  to  know  more 
of  the  boy's  antecedents  than  any  one  else.     For  instance, 


222  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

I  didn't  know  until  to-night  that  he  came  originally  from 
the  West,  though  Whitelaw  seems  to  know  all  about  it. 
He's  telegraphed  to  find  out  if  there  are  any  relatives  ;  has 
taken  charge  of  some  mail  matter  just  arrived  from  the 
Everett,  and  has  made  himself  generally  useful.  But 
then  you  never  did  appreciate  Whitelaw.  Well,  here  come 
the  carriages.  Good  night,  Faucon ;  trust  you  won't  be 
any  the  worse  for  your  night  drive.  Take  some  Scotch 
whiskey  when  you  get  home,  to  keep  out  the  damp ;  this 
river  fog's  as  full  of  malaria  as  a  melon  is  of  seeds." 

Gillis  had  slammed  the  door  of  the  Rectory  coach,  and 
stood  respectfully  holding  open  that  of  the  Elmhurst 
brougham  as  the  former  vehicle  drove  off  rapidly. 

"  Hit's  a  bad  case,  sir,"  he  remarked  with  easy  con- 
fidence to  the  Colonel.  "  Hi  saw  the  second  doctor  goin' 
in  'alf  an  'our  since." 

The  Colonel  was  always  friendly  with  GilUs,  who  was  a 
useful  man. 

"They'll  give  no  positive  opinion  to-night,"  he  returned 
kindly.  "  At  the  best  it's  concussion  of  the  brain,  and 
that  I  understand's  serious.  And  all,  Gillis,  the  result  of 
keeping  bad  company,  though  the  man  himself  is  doubt- 
less respectable.  Those  labor  agitators  are  a  bad  lot, 
Gillis,  —  a  very  dangerous  lot  indeed.  You  must  keep 
your  district  in  good  working  order  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  putting  them  down  in  November  in  the  cause  of  law 
and  order.     Mind  that,  Gillis  !  " 

Intense  stillness  settled  again  on  the  street  outside  the 
hospital  when  the  sound  of  the  Elmhurst  wheels  had  died 
in  the  distance  and  the  defender  of  law  and  order  had 
returned  to  his  former  position  at  the  side  door  of  the 
hospital. 

Upstairs,  in  the  large,  square  office  of  the  Superintendent, 
the  silence  was  as  unbroken  as  in  the  street  below.  In  an 
adjoining  and  smaller  room  Dr.  Lindley  and  Cassett,  the 


A  FALSE  STEP  223 

Harrisburg  surgeon  (who  had  been  caught  by  good  fortune 
on  his  way  through  Brockton),  were  bending  over  a  small 
iron  bed  which  was  just  visible  through  the  open  door. 

Doniphan,  whose  will  was  law  at  the  Brockton  General, 
had  impressed  the  Superintendent's  only  rocking-chair,  and 
planted  himself  where  h?  could  get  the  best  view  of  what 
was  going  on  inside.  Thallon's  dog  lay  fast  asleep  on  his 
knees  —  very  dusty  knees,  by  the  way,  as  was  the  rest  of 
his  somewhat  dishevelled  person,  suggesting  his  having 
been  caught  napping  on  the  Harrisburg  Road  and  "run 
in  "  on  a  charge  of  vagrancy.  His  sister  Abby  would  not 
have  been  proud  of  him  could  she  have  seen  him  then. 

Reggie  Gilbreed,  nursing  a  long  leg  in  a  straight-backed 
chair  in  one  corner,  watched  Doniphan  curiously.  He  had 
always  thought  of  him  as  a  rather  musty  book-worm,  and 
his  late  development  into  a  trained  nurse  rather  puzzled 
the  boy.  Reggie  himself  was  not  strong  on  death-bed 
scenes,  and  nothing  short  of  the  fact  that  Thallon  was 
the  last  man  under  whose  influence  he  had  found  him- 
self could  possibly  have  accounted  for  his  lingering  in  a 
hospital  atmosphere  after  he  had  ceased  to  make  himself 
useful  in  bringing  the  patient  in. 

Having  carried  to  a  successful  issue  an  idea  originating 
with  this  new-found  friend,  he  had  come  back  to  Brockton 
full  of  a  childlike  desire  for  praise  and  appreciation,  and  all 
he  had  found  was  this.  Discussion  of  this  one  topic  with 
any  one  save  Thallon  struck  him  as  impossible,  and  en- 
forced silence  was  always  trying  to  Reggie.  He  showed 
it  then  plainly. 

Whitelaw  sat  writing  at  a  small  table  upon  which  lay 
scattered  several  open  telegrams  and  a  pile  of  other  cor- 
respondence. He  was,  as  the  Colonel  had  said,  making 
himself  extremely  useful. 

Doniphan  was  the  only  one  of  the  three  who  believed 
that  the  injured  man  would  get  well.     He  had  even  sue- 


224  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

ceeded  a  little  while  back  in  getting  a  good  deal  of  quiet 
amusement  out  of  the  situation,  especially  out  of  Lever- 
son,  who  was  so  evidently  there  under  orders  from  the 
Colonel.  It  was  always  a  keen  pleasure  to  Doniphan  to 
see  Leverson  under  anybody's  orders,  and  it  was  not  a 
pleasure  he  enjoyed  every  day. 

Presently  Whitelaw  deliberately  gathered  his  papers  to- 
gether, folded  them  neatly,  and,  placing  them  in  his  coat 
pocket,  rose  to  go.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  the  two 
physicians  entered  the  room. 

"We  can  do  nothing  more  to-night,"  Lindley  said  in  a 
low  tone  as  Doniphan  rose,  with  a  pair  of  eyes  which  had 
suddenly  become  questioning  glancing  rapidly  from  one 
physician  to  the  other.  "  All  we  can  say  positively  is  that 
he  will  not  die  directly  from  shock.  Pulse  and  temperature 
are  both  increasing  which,  of  course,  means  fever.  With 
his  constitution,  he  will  fight  that  for  a  week  at  least,  —  I 
hope  successfully.  There  is  no  reason  any  of  us  should 
stay.  Cassett  has  got  to  leave  on  the  midnight  train,  and 
won't  return  unless  he's  sent  for.  He  assures  me  there's 
no  fracture  of  the  skull.  The  broken  arm  saved  his  head 
that  much.  His  call  was  close  enough  as  it  was.  He 
may  recover  consciousness  in  the  night,  but  he'll  do  no 
more  than  babble  nonsense.  The  house  doctor  will  be  on 
duty  in  half  an  hour,  and  if  there's  any  change  for  the 
worse,  I  can  be  sent  for.  You'd  better  go  home  yourself, 
Doniphan  ;  you  look  dead  used  up." 

"  Never  felt  better  in  my  life.  Never  had  the  least 
belief  that  the  boy  was  going  to  knock  under.  Shan't 
let  him  slip  through  my  fingers  just  when  I  was  about  to 
start  him  on  the  right  road  !  Not  much  !  As  for  me,  — 
you  know  at  times  I  half  live  at  the  hospital.  I  shall  stay 
here  an  hour  or  two  yet.  I've  telephoned  home  for  the 
carryall,  so  I'm  all  right." 

Whitelaw  and  Reggie  had  joined  the  group  by  the  hall 


A  FALSE  STEP  225 

door  where  they  stood  talking.  The  effect  of  the  little 
man's  sanguine  words  on  each  was  curiously  different 
VVhitelaw,  whose  white  teeth  had  been  showing  in  one 
of  his  pleasant  smiles,  became  suddenly  grave;  young 
Gilbreed  gave  a  long  sigh  of  relief  and  his  eyes  kindled. 
The  surgeon's  hand  was  on  the  door-knob.  He  was  evi- 
dently in  a  hurry.  Lindley  had  laid  one  affectionate  fore- 
finger on  Doniphan's  arm,  but  he  only  said :  — 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  stay  ;  but  whatever  else  you 
do,  you  can't  go  on  without  your  meals.  I'll  have  Stephen- 
son send  something  up  to  you  here.     I  insist  on  that," 

"Don't mind  if  you  do;  I'mravenous,"  Doniphan  laughed, 
as  they  went  out  into  the  hall,  the  dog  close  at  his  heels. 
When  he  came  back  again  a  moment  later  he  was 
still  chuckUng  over  something  as  he  stowed  away  an  old- 
fashioned  leather  pocket-book  in  his  trousers  pocket. 

"  I'm  glad  you  take  such  a  cheerful  view  of  it,"  White- 
law  remarked,  his  eyes  fixed  intently  on  the  little  man's 
face.  "  Have  you  got  any  theory  yet  as  to  the  cause  of 
this  unfortunate  affair  .'' " 

"Yes,  I  have,"  Doniphan  said,  returning  the  look. 

"  I  suppose  you  agree  with  the  Colonel,  —  Thallon  was 
strufCk  at  because  he  was  Leverson's  clerk  ? " 

"  No  —  that  is,  my  theory's  a  trifle  more  complete  than 
that,  and,  if  I  may  hazard  a  guess,  yours  is  too." 

Whitelaw  was  smiling  again  now,  this  time  with  gen- 
uine appreciation  of  the  other's  powers  of  penetration. 

"  You're  but  mad  north-northwest,"  he  said,  laughing 
outright.     "When  the  wind's  southerly  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know.  I'll  see  you  about  that  part  of  the  thing 
to-morrow.  You've  got  no  definite  news  from  the  West,  — 
Iowa,  isn't  it .? " 

"  No  one  of  that  name  there  now,  and  apparently  no 
connections  of  any  kind;  but  the  name's  known." 

*'  Thought  as  much !  Noticed  that  letter  you  had  on 
Q 


226  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

the  table  there  just  now  addressed  to  Thallon  carried  an 
Iowa  postmark  and  a  letter-head  I've  forgotten.  As  I 
shall  be  with  him  more  or  less  until  he  pulls  through,  I 
might  take  charge  of  it." 

"  I  can  hardly  give  you  that  trouble.  You  see  I  was 
commissioned  by  Colonel  Gilbreed  to  take  charge  of  any 
mail  matter." 

"  Really,  I  can  hardly  see  what  the  Colonel's  got  to  do 
with  it." 

"Only,  I  believe,  that  he  represents  Mr.  Leverson's 
wishes,  and  Leverson,  at  least  nominally,  still  employs 
Thallon.  Under  the  circumstances,  I  suppose  the  Colonel 
might  ask  what  you  have  got  to  do  with  it." 

"  Oh,  if  that's  necessary,  I  certainly  don't  represent  Lev- 
erson's wishes,"  Doniphan  laughed,  "  though  for  that 
matter  I  doubt  if  Gilbreed  does  either.  However,  if  you 
regard  it  as  a  sacred  trust,  I've  nothing  to  say.  Good  night, 
Reggie.  Cheer  up,  boy  !  You're  not  likely  to  be  called 
on  for  chief  mourner  for  some  time  yet,  so  there's  no  use 
wasting  tears  studying  the  part." 

Reggie  was  not  at  all  responsive  to  this  f  acetiousness. 
It  struck  him  as  ill-timed  and  in  very  bad  taste. 

"  I  can't  understand  why  Madge  didn't  come,"  he  ob- 
served moodily.  "  She  couldn't  have  done  any  good,  but 
after  all  he  asked  for  her." 

"  Quite  as  well  as  it  is,"  Doniphan  returned.  "  From 
what  he  said  I  gathered  Leverson  had  shut  down  on  it.  I'm 
only  sorry  you  told  them  anything  about  it;  she'll  worry 
over  it  for  a  month.  However,  you  won't,  so  good  night 
to  you." 

Though  on  Reggie's  last  view  of  it  Doniphan's  face  was 
grinning  amiably  at  them  from  over  the  balusters,  the  little 
man  presently  closed  the  door  of  the  Superintendent's 
office  with  a  sign  of  intense  relief,  as  though  he  were  shut- 
ting out  some  persistent  problem  as  yet  but  half  solved, 


A  FALSE  STEP  22/ 

He  walked  thoughtfully  over  to  the  door  of  the  inner  room 
and  looked  in. 

A  white-capped  nurse  was  bending  over  the  small  iron 
bed  adjusting  some  bandages.  The  room  was  intensely 
still.  He  stood  there  watching  her  moodily,  his  late  cheer- 
fulness for  the  moment  all  gone. 

He  cheered  up  immensely,  however,  when  a  second  white- 
capped  nurse  brought  in  a  well-filled  tray,  upon  the  con- 
tents of  which  he  immediately  fell  to  with  a  relish,  though 
his  appetite  did  not  prevent  his  sharing  half  his  meal  with 
Thallon's  new-found  canine  friend,  who,  small  as  he  was, 
ate  as  if  his  stomach  were  the  bottomless  pit. 

"I  reckon  I'll  call  you  'Twist,'  because  you're  always 
asking  for  more,  you  glutton,"  he  soliloquized,  as  he  finished 
his  last  piece  of  toast.  "  It  might  have  been  Diogenes,  be- 
cause you  undoubtedly  were  in  search  of  an  honest  man  ; 
but  you  don't  deserve  it,  for  you  brought  him  beastly  bad 
luck  when  you  did  find  him,  you  ungrateful  beggar.  No, 
you  needn't  plead  that  his  honesty  hasn't  been  proved. 
Neither  has  mine,  for  that  matter.  That  sort  of  thing 
takes  time,  and  meanwhile  I  propose  to  believe  in  him. 
Twist —  I  propose  to  believe  in  him." 

He  pushed  the  tray  farther  on  to  the  small  table  where 
he  liad  been  sitting,  got  up  from  his  chair,  and  stole  into 
the  next  room  again.  The  deathly  blue  pallor  had  left  the 
face  since  he  had  last  seen  it,  and  it  was  now  flushed  with 
increasing  fever.  Doniphan  glanced  at  the  nurse  to  see  if 
she  had  noted  the  change.  She  was  already  adding  cracked 
ice  to  the  bandages. 

"  Lindley  told  me  they  expected  this,"  he  remarked. 

The  nurse  nodded.  "  But  not  quite  so  soon,"  she  volun- 
teered. 

The  house  doctor  came  in  presently,  —  a  young  prot6g6 
of  Lindley's.  Doniphan  watched  his  face  as  he  felt  the 
patient's  pulse  and  glanced  at  the  temperature  record. 


228  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  How's  the  fight  going  ? " 

Doniphan  had  not  meant  to  ask  that  question  again,  but 
he  couldn't  help  it. 

"  Only  just  beginning.  He's  in  now  for  a  week  of 
fever.  We  ought  to  be  able  to  pull  him  through  that, 
Mr.  Doniphan." 

The  house  doctor  went  away,  promising  to  be  back  in 
half  an  hour,  and  Doniphan  bent  over  the  bed  again.  The 
injured  arm  lay  in  splints  on  the  outside  of  the  covers,  the 
fingers  of  the  other  hand  were  moving  restlessly,  as  were 
the  lips,  drawn  as  they  were  by  pain.  Doniphan  laid  his 
hand  on  the  boy's  cheek  with  a  touch  which  might  have  been 
a  woman's.     Without  question  Doniphan  was  an  odd  stick. 

His  back  was  toward  the  door,  yet  so  intense  was  the 
stillness  that  he  could  hear  the  ticking  of  the  Waterbury 
clock  on  the  table  in  the  other  room,  —  the  table  under 
which  Twist  had  gone  to  sleep  again  so  as  to  be  as  near 
the  tea-tray  as  possible. 

Doniphan  did  not  turn  when  a  moment  later  he  heard 
some  one  enter  the  room  softly.  The  nurses  were  always 
coming  in  or  going  out,  and  his  mind  was  occupied  just 
then  with  the  results  of  their  work,  not  its  details. 

But  this  figure  which  had  slipped  noiselessly  round  to 
the  other  side  of  the  bed  was  draped  in  a  long  black  cloak 
instead  of  the  usual  spotless  white.  The  color  penetrated 
his  consciousness,  as  perhaps  nothing  else  would  have  done 
at  the  moment.  It  seemed  to  have  something  ill-omened 
and  sinister  about  it.  He  looked  up  with  a  start  and  faced 
the  last  person  he  would  have  expected  to  find  there,  — 
Margaret  Leverson. 

She,  on  her  part,  seemed  completely  unconscious  of  his 
presence  or  that  of  anything  else  except  the  rigid  figure  on 
the  bed.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  that  with  a  questioning 
intensity,  the  more  marked  that  the  rest  of  her  face,  though 
cold  and  white,  was  perfectly  calm. 


A  FALSE  STEP  229 

Doniphan's  quick  wits  were  at  his  disposal  again  even 
before  any  ejaculation  of  surprise  could  escape  his  lips, 
for  they  were  very  well-disciplined  lips  though  disfigured 
by  a  bad  quirk  in  one  corner.  As  he  glanced  at  her  from 
under  his  bushy  eyebrows,  he  surmised  a  potentiality  in 
the  girl's  character  he  had  not  suspected  before,  though 
he  had  watched  her  grow  to  womanhood.  Not  that  his 
faith  in  her  was  shaken,  even  then.  Had  Margaret  Lever- 
son  been  consciously  moved  by  anything  save  a  woman's 
pity  for  the  man  she  believed  lay  before  her  dying,  she 
was  the  last  woman  in  the  world  to  have  come  there  as 
she  had.  In  a  flash  it  went  through  him  what  the  girl's 
life  had  exposed  her  to,  what  her  ignorance  of  its  danger 
was  exposing  her  to  now.  Something  had  got  to  be  done, 
and  quickly.  The  nurse  had  paused  in  her  work  and  was 
regarding  Margaret  curiously. 

"  My  dear  girl,  this  is  very  kind  and  like  you,"  he  said, 
crossing  to  where  she  stood  and  laying  a  kindly  hand 
upon  her  arm.  "  I  sent  back  word  by  Leverson  that  if 
you  could  get  here  to-night,  you  might  be  of  help  to  me. 
The  boy's  been  trying  to  say  something  which  none  of  us 
men  could  make  out.  You'll  do  better,  I  take  it,  espe- 
cially now  he's  coming  round  so  well." 
:'  The  utter  absurdity  of  his  having  sent  any  such  message 
to  her  through  Ashton  Leverson  did  not  trouble  Doniphan 
in  the  least.  It  would  not  be  apparent  to  an  outsider,  and 
so  the  excuse  served  his  purpose.  Doniphan's  lies  were 
like  Uncle  Toby's  oaths,  liable  to  give  the  recording  angel 
more  blotting  out  to  do. 

Margaret  had  taken  her  eyes  from  Thallon's  face  and 
fixed  them  upon  Doniphan's  without  changing  their  ex- 
pression. They  seemed  to  carry  a  reflection  of  the  terrible 
contrast  which  was  haunting  her,  —  the  contrast  between 
the  ghastly  vacant  face  upon  the  pillow  and  the  face  of 
Owen  Thallon  as  she  had  seen  it  last.  Yet  save  her  eyes, 
she  still  held  herself  in  complete  control. 


230  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"You  mean  that  he  wilt  live  ? "  she  asked  in  a  perfectly 
level  voice  which  had  in  it  a  touch  of  incredulity.  "  The 
message  received  at  Elmhurst  was  that  he  was  dying." 

"  We  couldn't  tell  how  it  was  going  at  first,  but  there's 
a  good  fighting  chance  now,  and  I,  for  one,  have  made  up 
my  mind  he's  going  to  live.  There,  he's  coming  to !  " 
Doniphan  added  almost  triumphantly,  looking  down  at  the 
face  again. 

Margaret's  lighted  wonderfully  at  his  words.  By  a 
quick,  impulsive  movement  she  turned  from  Doniphan  and 
sank  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of  the  bed. 

And  so  it  was  that  Thallon's  eyes,  opening  to  returning 
consciousness,  saw  only  the  face  of  Margaret  Leverson,  — 
a  face  brilliant  with  suppressed  feeling,  the  lips  smiling 
bravely  as  she  saw  he  recognized  her. 

"  You  must  live,"  she  said  softly,  as  if  she  were  speak- 
ing to  a  child.  "  You  must  live,  because  you  have  work 
to  do." 

Still  smiling,  she  looked  back  at  Doniphan.  She  had 
tried  to  encompass  in  a  sentence  something  of  the  great 
obligation  that  lay  so  heavy  on  her  soul.  Doniphan 
nodded,  though  he  was  very  doubtful  if  the  sick  man  had 
understood  her.  He  had  only  made  a  faint  attempt  at 
a  smile  in  token  of  recognition  before  his  eyes  closed 
again. 

"  Well,  well,  we  must  give  it  up  for  to-night,"  Doni- 
phan said  regretfully,  though  he  was  only  anxious  to 
get  her  away.  A  few  moments  later  he  made  an  excuse 
to  draw  her  into  the  next  room  and  closed  the  connecting 
door  behind  him.  As  soon  as  they  were  along  she  asked 
abruptly :  — 

"  Is  it  true  that  he  was  attacked  because  he  represented, 
or  was  supposed  to  represent,  Mr.  Leverson  .-*  " 

"My  theory  is,"  Doniphan  returned  slowly,  "though  I 
don't  care  to  share  it  with  any  one  but  you  at  present  — 


A  FALSE  STEP  23 1 

my  theory  is  that  Owen  Thallon  was  attacked  because  he 
was  mistaken  for  Mr.  Leverson." 

She  looked  at  him  in  speechless  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  I  know  they're  not  in  the  least  alike,"  he  went  on, 
smiling,  "except  as  to  height  and  general  build,  and  one 
or  two  peculiarities  of  gait.  Of  course  Leverson  is  much 
stouter,  but  that  would  not  be  noticed  in  the  gloom  of  a 
wood  road  late  in  the  evening.  Then,  he  was  with  me  — 
and  I  had  gone  down  to  Slathers's  shanty  to  see  about  these 
rumored  labor  troubles.  I've  done  the  same  thing  with 
Leverson  under  the  same  circumstances  before ;  when  we 
wanted  to  see  those  people  on  the  quiet,  you  understand. 
You  see  the  connection's  close  enough." 

"  But  who  could  possibly  wish  to  murder  Mr.  Leverson.?" 

Doniphan  could  think  of  several  persons  who  would  not 
have  wept  at  the  news  of  Leverson's  violent  demise,  but 
none  likely  to  undertake  the  job,  so  he  answered  truth- 
fully :  — 

"  I  don't  know." 

She  looked  at  him  doubtfully,  as  if  she  suspected  him  of 
suppressing  something. 

"How  did  you  get  here.?"  he  asked  rather  abruptly, 
breaking  a  pause  during  which  he  had  placed  a  chair  for 
her,  though  she  did  not  take  it. 

"  On  the  electric.  I  brought  Alice  with  me.  I  left  her 
downstairs  in  the  waiting-room." 

She  submitted  to  his  questions,  her  eyes  scanning  his 
face  for  approval  or  disapproval  as  if  she  had  been  a 
naughty  child.  Doniphan  looked  at  his  watch  with  a 
frown. 

"  Humph  !  close  on  eleven.  No  hour  for  you  to  go  back 
in  that  way,"  he  grunted.  "  The  carryall's  at  the  Everett 
and  I  shall  take  you  home.  Did  Ashton  sanction  your 
coming } " 

She  flared  up  at  the  words  in  sudden  defiance. 


232  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  No ;  he  forbade  it !  " 

He  saw  then  what  he  had  only  suspected  before,  — 
that  this  thing  was  serious.  Doniphan  was  not  a  man 
to  shirk  responsibility,  though  he  was  already  stagger- 
ing under  a  load  which  would  have  satisfied  most 
people. 

He  made  her  tell  him  all  there  was  to  tell,  which  she  did 
unwillingly,  though  with  no  attempt  to  shield  Leverson, 
her  paramount  thought  in  a  similar  interview  with  Dr. 
Lindley  less  than  three  months  before. 

H>e  heard  her  through  to  the  end  without  comment; 
then  said  slowly:  — 

"  And  after  all's  said,  Leverson  was  quite  right.  You 
must  remember  he  is  not  acquainted  with  my  theory, 
which,  after  all,  is  only  a  theory,  and  to  him  Owen  Thallon 
has  simply  met  with  a  piece  of  ill  fortune  such  as  might 
happen  to  any  one.  He  was  not  even  engaged  on  Lever- 
son's  business  when  he  was  attacked.  Considering  the 
circumstances,  Ashton  himself  has  certainly  behaved  very 
well,  and  his  objections  to  your  coming  here  were  obvious. 
Beyond  his  business  connection,  what  can  he  know  of  Owen 
Thallon  ? " 

"  Beyond  his  own  interests,  he  neither  knows  nor  cares," 
the  girl  returned  hotly  ;  "  but  that  is  neither  here  nor  there. 
I  have  not  asked  him  to  be  anything  but  himself,  but  he 
has  no  right  to  try  to  make  me  like  him.  He  has  not 
bought  my  soul! " 

It  was  on  Doniphan's  lips  to  add,  "  But  he  has  bought 
the  power  to  ruin  your  life,"  but  he  checked  himself,  see- 
ing clearly  that  she  was  in  no  state  for  further  argument. 
Instead  he  veered  abruptly  into  a  different  strain,  soothing 
her  in  words  marvellously  soft  for  him,  and  presently  get- 
ting her  to  talk  of  other  things. 

"  I'll  send  Gillis  for  the  carryall  at  once,  for  we  can  do 
nothing  further  here,"  he  said  when  she  had  quieted  down. 


A  FALSE  STEP  ^33 

"  You  keep  an  eye  on  Twist  (Thallon's  dog,  you  know),  who 
goes  with  us.     I  won't  be  half  a  minute." 

Twist  woke  up  grudgingly,  but  was  willing  to  make 
friends  when  Margaret  produced  some  scraps  of  toast 
remaining  on  the  tray. 

On  the  drive  home  Doniphan  regaled  Margaret  with  the 
dog's  romantic  history,  thankful  that  Alice's  presence  on 
the  front  seat  prevented  the  discussion  of  anything  more 
serious.  All  through  the  tedious  night  drive,  he  kept  say- 
ing to  himself  that  the  girl  had  got  to  have  time  to  pull 
herself  together  before  he  or  any  one  could  help  ^er,  if 
helped  she  could  be  even  then. 

And  yet  when  they  reached  the  house,  which  appeared 
closed  for  the  night,  and  Alice  had  gone  around  to  the 
servant's  quarters  to  arouse  the  watchful  Morgan,  leaving 
them  waiting  in  the  carriage,  she  herself  came  back  to  it 
again  as  if  she  could  not  let  him  go  without  one  more 
word.  With  one  of  her  impulsive  movements  she  leaned 
forward  in  her  seat  and  took  one  of  his  hands  in  both  of 
hers. 

"  I  know  you  blame  me,  but  you  do  not  despise  me, 
do  you.^"  she  asked,  her  voice  a  little  unsteady. 

"  I  can't  love  and  despise  at  the  same  time,"  he  said, 
hiytone  saying  much  more  than  words.  She  could  not  see 
his  face  in  the  darkness. 

"  Ah  !  "  she  said  with  a  sharp  indrawing  of  the  breath, 
as  her  fingers  closed  more  tightly  on  his,  "  neither  can 
I!" 

"  I  have  not  asked  the  impossible,  "  he  returned,  choos- 
ing his  words  carefully,  for  he  knew  now  she  wanted  him 
to  speak,  and  what  he  said  might  mean  life  or  death  to 
her,  "  but  I  do  ask  this  of  you.  Do  not  worry  too  much 
about  working  out  the  good  that  is  in  you.  It  will  have 
its  chance  all  in  good  time.  Do  not  be  afraid  that  the 
petty  meannesses  of  every  day  have  any  power  to  drag 


234  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

you  down  except  through  your  own  weakness,  through 
your  participation  in  them.  Don't  be  afraid  you  will  ever 
be  damned  for  other  people's  sins,  and  while  giving  no 
sanction  to  the  sin  itself,  always  give  the  sinner  the  bene- 
fit of  the  doubt." 

"  But  we  do  sanction  if  we  tamely  acquiesce, "  she 
returned,  withdrawing  her  hands,  all  defiance  again. 

"  Not  at  all,  "  Doniphan  rejoined  almost  cheerfully,  he 
was  so  pleased  at  her  anger.  "  We  simply  take  a  negative 
part  under  protest,  because  by  doing  so  we  fulfil  the  duty 
which  lies  nearest  to  hand  ;  a  much  less  agreeable  duty 
than  that  other  active  one  outside.  Faucon  and  the 
religionists  would  tell  you  that  God  had  given  you  this 
inside,  irksome  task  (cross,  I  suppose  they'd  call  it),  and 
therefore  you  must  bear  it  without  question  as  to  its  pur- 
pose. I  can't  honestly  go  as  far  as  that,  not  being  at  all 
intimate  with  the  purposes  of  the  Almighty.  To  me  you 
simply  accepted  a  certain  trust,  and  have  pledged  your 
solemn  word  to  fulfil  that  trust,  for  better  for  worse,  be- 
fore all  else.  Whether  you  accepted  it  with  your  eyes 
open  or  closed  does  not  matter.  To  be  true  to  yourself 
you  must  first  be  true  to  that.  I  know  it's  hard,  —  per- 
haps it's  even  harder  than  I  know,  —  but  this  is  certain, 
Us  right!'' 

He  could  say  no  more,  for  the  Elmhurst  front  door  was 
being  opened  by  the  discreet  and  noiseless  Morgan,  though 
as  yet  he  held  it  but  a  few  inches  ajar  as  if  he  were  about 
to  admit  a  doubtful  candidate  into  heaven. 

The  hand  which  again  touched  Doniphan's,  as  he  helped 
her  out  of  the  carryall,  was  hot  to  feverishness,  but  it  was 
firm.     "  I'll  try  —  again,  "  she  said. 

Doniphan  winced  ;  there  was  a  revelation  of  past  strug- 
gle and  failure  in  that  last  word  "again"  more  pathetic 
than  tears. 

"  And  succeed,  "  he  answered,  patting  her  elbow  because 


A  FALSE  STEP  235 

he  could  not    conveniently  reach    her  shoulder.      "You 
remember  that  line  of  Epictetus  :  — 

"  For  not  only  did  He  make  thee,  but  to  thee  alone  did  He  commit 
thyself." 

They  were  his  last  hopeful  words  that  night,  for  in  a 
moment  she  had  left  him  and  he  was  alone  in  the  dark 
stillness  of  the  night;  alone  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
Twist. 

The  dog  lay  curled  up  in  his  lap  fast  asleep  throughout 
the  long  drive  home,  doubtless  dreaming  that  he  had 
reached  some  canine  paradise.  It  was  so  easy  to  help 
him.     His  wants  were  few  and  simple. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

REGGIE   MAKES   A   CLEAN    BREAST   OF   IT 

If  Mobray  Doniphan  got  three  hours'  sleep  that  night, 
he  did  remarkably  well.  He  unquestionably  breakfasted 
early,  for  by  seven  o'clock  he  was  keeping  his  telephone 
wire  hot  with  a  series  of  messages  to  the  chief  of  the 
Brockton  police,  which  must  have  elicited  some  sort  of 
satisfactory  reply,  for  he  finally  left  that  much-abused 
instrument  grinning  terribly. 

He  had  hung  up  the  receiver  and  was  walking  with  his 
usual  brisk  step  through  the  wide  hall  of  his  old  house, 
intent  on  ordering  the  carryall,  when  through  the  open 
front  door  he  caught  sight  of  a  horseman  coming  up  the 
avenue  at  a  sharp  canter.  Equestrian  visitors  were  not  so 
numerous  at  the  Hill  Farm  as  not  to  attract  attention,  and 
Doniphan  at  once  adjourned  to  the  front  piazza  to  investi- 
gate this  one. 

"Why,  it's  Reggie  by  all  that's  wonderful!"  the  little 
man  exclaimed,  as  the  boy  swung  himself  off  his  horse  at 
the  foot  of  the  piazza  steps.  "  Where  did  you  come  from 
at  this  time  of  day .''  Have  you  got  the  worm  already,  or 
did  you  reckon  on  finding  it  here .'' " 

For  some  odd  reason  this  pleasantry  seemed  to  embar- 
rass Reggie  who,  having  silently  returned  Doniphan's  salu- 
tation, was  busy  hitching  his  horse  to  the  piazza  rail  in  lieu 
of  anything  better. 

"  I  came  to  see  you  about  this  man  Dupre,"  he  returned, 
after  he  had  followed  Doniphan  into  the  great  cool  room 

236 


REGGIE  MAKES  A   CLEAN  BREAST  OF  IT  237 

on  the  left  of  the  hall,  and  had  seated  himself  on  the  chair 
his  host  indicated  with  a  little  nod.  The  room  appeared 
to  serve  the  purpose  of  library  and  study,  its  low  walls 
being  lined  with  open  bookshelves  save  where  they  were 
broken  by  a  huge  old-fashioned  fireplace  and  the  necessary 
doors  and  windows. 

Doniphan  remained  standing  before  the  empty  fireplace 
in  a  position  which  gave  him  a  good  view  of  Reggie's  face 
across  the  litter  of  his  work-table,  which  was  a  miracle  of 
orderly  confusion. 

"  It's  very  good  of  you  to  be  willing  to  lend  a  hand,"  he 
said  heartily,  "  but  I  think  that  part  of  our  work  is  pretty 
well  done.  I  got  a  message  from  Cheeseman  a  few  min- 
utes ago  saying  they'd  tracked  the  man  as  far  as  Lancaster. 
If  he's  there,  and  he's  hardly  had  time  to  get  much  farther, 
he'll  be  taken  within  an  hour,  may  be  taken  by  this  time, 
as  far  as  that  goes.  So  I  don't  see  that  you  can  help  us 
in  any  way." 

"  You  don't  understand  at  all,"  Reggie  returned  with 
increasing  embarrassment  which  showed  in  his  picking  up 
a  volume  from  the  table  and  absently  thumbing  its  leaves. 
"  I  haven't  come  here  with  any  intention  of  helping  you 
run^  Dupr6  down ;  on  the  contrary,  I  came  here  expressly 
to  ask  you  to  let  up  on  him." 

Doniphan  walked  over  to  where  his  visitor  was  sitting 
and  took  the  volume  away  from  him  without  showing  any 
surprise  at  this  sudden  change  of  programme. 

"  I  can't  let  you  play  with  it,"  he  explained  pleasantly  ; 
"you've  dropped  out  three  of  the  marks  already,  which 
will  give  Madge  an  extra  half  hour's  work  this  afternoon. 
Why  do  you  want  me  to  let  up  on  Dupr6  ? " 

"  I'm  sorry  about  the  marks,"  the  boy  said,  flushing. 
"As  for  Dupr^,  I  think  I  can  make  that  clear  to  you. 
But  first  I  want  to  ask  you  how  you  managed  to  connect 
him  with  this  outrage.     It  seems  absurd  on  the  face  of  it. 


238  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Why  in  the  name  of  common  sense  should  Dupre  want  to 
murder  Thallon  ? " 

"  Well,  to  begin  with  your  first,  as  the  enigmas  put  it," 
Doniphan  replied,  smiling  his  grim  little  smile,  "  we  have 
the  testimony  of  a  very  bad  and  a  very  good  witness. 
That  boy  called  the  Whelp,  when  put  under  considerable 
pressure,  disgorged  the  name  of  Dupre  as  the  man  who 
struck  the  blow.  This  taken  alone  may  not  be  conclusive, 
but  we  also  have  the  evidence  of  the  Harrisburg  Road. 
Within  ten  rods  of  the  spot  where  Thallon  fell  is  a  low 
place  in  the  road  beside  some  stunted  alders.  It  always 
holds  enough  water  from  the  last  rain  to  be  muddy,  —  half- 
dried  clay  mud  which  takes  a  good  impression  of  a  boot 
and  keeps  it.  It  held  three  such  prints  last  night,  easy  to 
see  even  by  lantern  light.  Two  were  made  by  Thallon's 
own  shoes,  and  one  by  a  much  heavier,  clumsier  boot,  such 
as  might  have  been  worn  by  a  laborer.  All  were  very 
freshly  made,  for  they  covered  and  partly  obliterated  the 
marks  of  wheels  made  earlier.  Cheeseman,  of  course,  lost 
no  time  in  going  down  to  Dupr6's  shanty  in  the  swamp, 
where  he  found  neither  Dupr6  nor  his  daughter,  but  what 
he  much  preferred  to  either,  —  a  pair  of  Dupre's  boots, 
daubed  with  considerable  red-clay  mud  not  yet  dry,  and 
fitting  perfectly  into  the  print  on  the  Harrisburg  Road. 
Now  that  answers  your  first  question." 

Reggie  had  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  was  follow- 
ing Doniphan  with  an  eagerness  curiously  unlike  him. 

"  And  my  second  ?  "  he  asked,  as  Doniphan  paused. 

"Ah,  that's  different,"  the  little  man  returned  with  a 
provoking  change  of  manner  which  suggested  the  shutting 
up  of  an  oyster  suddenly  conscious  of  having  been  too 
communicative.  "  I  have  a  theory,  of  course,  but  I'm  not 
disposed  to  air  it  until  I  can  judge  whether  it  will  hold 
water." 

"  Perhaps  you  wouldn't  mind  my  guessing  what  it  is," 


REGGIE   MAKES   A  CLEAN   BREAST  OF   IT  239 

Reggie  hazarded  ;  "  you  needn't  say  whether  I'm  right  or 
wrong." 

"  I've  got  to  leave  the  house  in  fifteen  minutes,"  Doni- 
phan returned,  consulting  his  watch,  "  but  you  can  fill  it  in 
in  that  way  if  you  like." 

"  It  won't  take  fifteen  seconds,"  Reggie  said  with  some 
touch  of  his  old  easy  confidence.  "  You  don't  think  Dupre 
intended  that  blow  for  Thallon  at  all,  but  for  Leverson." 

Doniphan  shot  a  glance  at  the  boy  from  under  his 
heavy  eyebrows  which  was  appreciative  whatever  else  it 
was.  It  passed  instantly,  but  left  a  twinkle  in  the  sharp 
black  eyes  and  the  quirk  in  the  corner  of  the  mouth  very 
noticeable. 

"  Young  man,"  he  said  impressively,  "  I  believe  you've 
got  a  good  deal  of  what  the  Yankees  would  call  '  cuteness  * 
about  you.  I  suppose  you  got  it  from  the  Colonel ;  your 
poor  mother  was  far  too  much  of  a  saint  not  to  be  easily 
imposed  upon.  You  and  I  are  not  troubled  that  way,  it 
seems." 

"  I  shan't  ask  you  how  near  I  came  to  making  a  bull's 
eye,"  Reggie  laughed,  and  flushed  again,  this  time  from 
pleasure  at  his  success.  "  I  promised  not  to,  and  besides 
it's-^not  necessary.  You  see,  after  all,  I  should  only  substi- 
tute one  name  for  another.  Why  should  Dupr<^  want  to 
murder  Leverson  any  more  than  Thallon  .?  " 

Doniphan  was  never  mysterious  unless  he  had  some- 
thing to  gain  by  it.  If  the  boy  knew  as  much  about  this 
thing  as  he  did,  he  was  quite  prepared  to  admit  it.  By  do- 
ing so  it  was  just  possible  he  might  learn  something  himself. 

"  Between  drink  and  that  inflammable  French  blood  a 
hundred  trifles  might  have  sufficed,"  he  observed  thought- 
fully. "  Leverson  was  his  employer.  If  the  man's  wages 
had  been  docked  within  a  month,  the  incident  might  have 
been  tortured  into  a  fancied  wrong.  The  newspapers  are 
full  of  such  aimless  murders  every  day." 


240  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

This  bald  admission  that  his  investigations  had  carried 
him  no  farther,  that  he  was  here  groping  in  a  darkness  of 
theory  as  absolute  as  any  which  could  possibly  encompass 
his  Hstener,  only  confirmed  Reggie  in  fulfiUing  both  of  the 
objects  which  had  brought  him  to  the  Hill  Farm  at  that 
early  hour.  When  Reggie  had  once  made  up  his  mind 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  tell  all  he  knew  on  any  given  subject, 
he  inevitably  did  so  with  neatness  and  despatch.  His  fif- 
teen minutes  were  not  over  before  he  had  placed  Mobray 
Doniphan  in  possession  of  all  the  facts  connected  with  that 
odd  meeting  at  the  studio  of  such  incongruous  personali- 
ties as  Thallon,  Dupr^,  and  Meyer  the  Revivalist,  with  the 
disappearance  of  Louise  Dupre  and  his  own  and  Meyer's 
journey  to  the  city,  together  with  his  reasons  for  suspect- 
ing Leverson,  whose  shadowy  and  uncertain  connection 
with  the  story  appeared  to  impress  Doniphan  beyond  its 
narrator's  most  sanguine  expectations. 

"  If  this  be  true,"  he  said  at  length,  more  to  himself  than 
his  companion,  before  whom  he  had  again  planted  himself 
after  several  minutes'  restless  pacing  about  the  room,  "if 
this  be  true,  Madge  Leverson  is  free.  No  law  of  God  or 
man  could  ask  her  to  cling  to  him  through  this." 

Reggie  looked  at  him  curiously  a  moment. 

"  I  was  only  thinking  of  her  happiness,"  he  said  simply. 
"  I  couldn't  imagine  Margaret  Gilbreed  happy  as  a  di- 
vorced woman." 

"  She  is  certainly  not  happy  now,"  Doniphan  growled, 
conscious  as  he  turned  away  again  that  wisdom  may  at 
times  come  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings ; 
"  but  on  other  grounds,  you're  right.  It's  not  her  happi- 
ness that's  at  stake  ;  it's  her  safety." 

Reggie  looked  puzzled,  but  had  to  content  himself  with 
answering,  not  asking,  questions,  which  Doniphan  now 
showered  upon  him  in  rapid  succession,  making  him  re- 
peat substantially  all  he  had  said  about  Leverson. 


REGGIE  MAKES  A  CLEAN  BREAST  OF  IT  24 1 

"  I  have  no  proof  positive  that  he  was  really  the  cause 
of  the  girl's  disappearance,"  Reggie  finished  breathlessly. 
"  Meyer  unearthed  her  in  a  West  Philadelphia  tenement 
where  he  knew  she  had  acquaintances.  All  we  could  get 
out  of  them  was  that  she  had  been  visited  there  by  a  gen- 
tleman whose  description,  as  we  got  it,  might  have  fitted 
any  one.  When  we  first  reached  there,  the  girl  was  out, 
presumably  with  him,  though  when  after  an  hour  of  wait- 
ing for  her  she  returned,  she  came  alone,  and  looking  more 
like  a  thunder-cloud  than  ever.  From  that  moment  Meyer 
never  left  her  until,  before  night,  he  had  persuaded  her  to 
cut  away  from  the  whole  thing,  though  getting  her  back  to 
Brockton  was  simply  out  of  the  question,  for  she  met  that 
with  a  flat  refusal.  What  he  did  succeed  in  doing  was  the 
next  best  thing,  —  placed  her  with  some  people  he  knew, 
workers  in  some  sort  of  brotherhood  they've  started,  with 
the  promise  that  they'd  get  her  work  to  do.  He  came 
back  Saturday  to  tell  Dupr6  that  she  was  safe  and  well, 
though  he  was  to  say  nothing  of  the  mysterious  gentleman. 
Yet  it  must  have  reached  the  man's  ears  in  some  way,  and 
he's  drawn  his  own  conclusions  either  against  Leverson 
or  against  Thallon.  If  he  left  Brockton  directly  after  the 
attack,  it  was  probably  to  see  the  girl." 

"  Whom  he  will  also  try  to  murder  if  he  reaches  her 
before  we  get  our  claws  on  him,"  Doniphan  remarked. 
"  Considering  all  the  circumstances,  it  strikes  me  as  odd 
you  should  want  us  to  drop  the  scent." 

"  Why,  I  thought  that  was  the  first  thing  that  would 
strike  you,"  Reggie  cried  in  amazement.  "  If  the  man  is 
caught,  and  if  this  thing  is  brought  home  to  him,  he'll  tell 
all  he  knows.  He  is  liable  to  have  proof  of  Leverson's 
guilt  which  we  have  not  got  at  all.  If  he  fastens  the  thing 
on  Leverson,  Madge  will  leave  Elmhurst  inside  fifteen  min- 
utes, and  I  shall  be  under  obligations  to  shoot  Leverson  on 
sight." 


242  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Doniphan  began  to  look  wicked. 

"  Your  spirit  does  you  infinite  credit,"  he  returned  slowly, 
and  with  that  very  sHght  nasal  inflection  which  always  came 
to  him  when  he  tapped  his  huge  resources  of  scathing  sar- 
casm —  "  infinite  credit,"  he  repeated,  his  eyes  on  the  unfor- 
tunate Reggie;  "but  all  the  same  it  seems  to  me  your 
ethics  are  just  a  trifle  shaky.  If  you  don't  mind  my  say- 
ing so,  you  not  only  seem  to  me  very  much  out  in  your 
suggestion  of  a  remedy  for  this  state  of  things,  but  to 
have  taken  the  wrong  moment  for  turning  on  your  righteous 
indignation.  That  a  man  like  Leverson  has  worked  this 
misery  is  something  you  appear  able  to  ignore,  provided 
the  disgusting  fact  is  not  made  public.  When  he  is  no 
longer  able  to  keep  it  quiet,  your  propose  to  punish  him, 
not  for  his  crime,  but  for  his  lack  of  criminal  acuteness, 
by  blowing  out  what  little  brains  he's  got.  And  all  this  I 
suppose  for  the  sake  of  making  your  sister  comfortable  and 
happy." 

"  Would  you  prefer  that  I  shot  him  now  ? "  Reggie  de- 
manded, roused  to  some  sort  of  self-defence  by  the  other's 
rough  handling. 

"  You  silly  little  boy,  I  have  no  intention  of  allowing  you 
to  shoot  him  either  now  or  at  any  other  time,"  Doniphan 
retorted,  his  eyes  blazing.  "  Neither,  if  it's  any  satisfaction 
to  you  to  know  it,  do  I  intend  that  Leverson 's  unmention- 
able sins  shall  furnish  food  for  the  newspapers.  We  have 
nothing  whatever  to  do  with  his  punishment,  and  if  we  had, 
we  could  not  strike  him  without  striking  her.  Madge  shall 
have  all  the  protection  I  can  give  her,  but  she  is  not  the 
only  person  in  the  world,  and  if  it  is  to  be  a  question  of 
her  peace  of  mind  or  the  other  girl's  death,  her  peace  of 
mind  will  have  to  go.  If  Thallon  dies,  Dupre  will  have 
to  be  hung ;  if  Thallon  lives,  Dupre  must  be  put  where  he 
can  do  no  more  harm.  In  either  case  he  will  not  implicate 
Leverson ;  but  if  he  did,  we  can  only  stand  by  Madge,  and 


REGGIE  MAKES  A  CLEAN  BREAST  OF  IT  243 

you  won't  add  to  the  general  unpleasantness  by  shooting 
her  husband  either." 

"And  where,  if  all  this  turns  out  as  you  admit  it  may,  do 
you  propose  she  should  go  ? "  Reggie  demanded  hotly.  "  You 
know  well  enough  that  my  father  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  all  about  him  —  a  great  deal  more  than  you 
do,"  Doniphan  went  on  savagely.  "  He  would  side  with 
Leverson  as  long  as  their  financial  interests  were  as  much 
in  common  as  they  have  been  lately,  but  that's  very  far 
from  saying  she'll  have  no  refuge.  While  I've  got  a  roof 
over  my  head,  it's  as  much  hers  as  mine,  but  she  must  fight 
out  her  battle  first,  and  fight  it  out  well  for  her  own  sake. 
Your  idea,  however,  that  I've  planned  any  such  doleful 
ending  is  all  bosh.  Dupr6's  capture  will  by  no  means 
bring  this  Leverson  matter  to  a  head.  If  Ashton  is  kept 
in  ignorance  of  the  girl's  whereabouts,  Dupre  is  locked  up, 
and  Thallon  can  be  brought  round,  things  may  turn  out 
better  than  you  think.  If  Dupr6  still  meditates  revenge, 
he  will  certainly  make  no  confession  of  his  real  purpose. 
Before  he  is  out  of  prison,  Leverson  will  be  miles  away. 
Thallon  was  quite  right  when  he  told  you  that  Leverson's 
suffering  at  Dupr6's  hands  must  be  guarded  against  before 
everything.  Our  letting  him  go  now  would  hardly  tend 
that  way." 

"  I  can't  agree  with  you  about  Leverson's  silence,"  Reggie 
said  moodily ;  "  he's  just  the  kind  of  man  to  brag  about  this 
thing." 

"  If  he  were  to  succeed  in  it,  yes ;  but  thanks  to  Thallon 
and  Meyer,  and  in  a  certain  degree  to  you,  he  hasn't  as  yet 
made  a  very  shining  success  of  it.  We'll  take  good  care 
he  doesn't.  I'm  very  glad  you've  told  me  what  you  have. 
It's  the  first  time  I've  had  a  clear  view  of  this  thing,  though 
I'd  guessed  at  parts  of  it.  Thallon's  part  was  well  taken, 
though  of  course  you'll  have  sense  enough  to  keep  that 
fact  from  Madge.     There  are  things  about  that  boy  I  like," 


244  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

he  went  on  after  a  pause.  "  A  good  many  young  fellows 
of  five  and  twenty  would  have  attempted  the  part  he  assigned 
to  you.  Of  course  I  know  he's  very  poor  —  lack  of  means 
may  have  had  something  to  do  with  it ;  he  was,  of  course, 
tied  here  by  his  engagement  to  Leverson,  and  yet  I  don't 
believe  it  was  altogether  that  which  made  him  keep  so 
quietly  in  the  background  and  yet  do  something.  It's  not 
everybody  guards  disagreeable  family  matters  they've  hap- 
pened to  stumble  on  quite  as  carefully.  You  Gilbreeds  owe 
him  something." 

Reggie,  painfully  conscious  that  one  Gilbreed  owed  him 
a  cool  hundred,  rose  and  walked  restlessly  over  to  the  large 
square  window,  which  commanded  a  magnificent  view  of 
the  wide  valley  below,  with  the  river,  here  reduced  to  a 
mere  streak  of  silver,  gleaming  in  the  brilliant  sunshine. 
He  had  come  to  the  Hill  Farm  that  morning  under  the 
impression  that  he  had  done  several  things  worthy  of 
high  praise.  Somehow  that  impression  seemed  to  be 
rapidly  oozing  out  of  him.  He  let  the  rest  of  it  go  without 
further  effort,  turning  abruptly  and  again  facing  Doniphan. 

"  In  justice  to  Thallon  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  he  loaned 
me  the  money  to  go.  I  believe  it  was  all  the  money  he  had, 
practically  his  last  cent.  I  couldn't  help  but  take  it.  Of 
course  I  had  to  pay  Meyer's  expenses,  and  I  was  as  usual 
dead  —     Good  heavens  !  what  have  I  said  .-'  " 

Doniphan  had  taken  a  step  toward  him,  his  long  arm 
half  raised,  his  thin  fingers  working  nervously ;  but  it  was 
rather  the  peculiar  expression  stamped  on  the  hard, 
straight  mouth  which  had  interrupted  Reggie's  labored 
confession. 

"You  Gilbreeds  are  entirely  beyond  me,"  the  elder 
man  put  in  sharply.  "  Considering  I've  been  told  so 
much,  perhaps  I  might  be  allowed  to  get  to  the  bottom 
of  all  this.  May  I  ask  the  amount  loaned  you  by 
Thallon  ?  " 


REGGIE  MAKES  A  CLEAN  BREAST  OF  IT  24 ^ 

Reggie  was  again  admiring  the  view.  "  One  hundred," 
he  answered  over  his  shoulder,  while  he  punctuated  the 
admission  by  gently  tapping  the  top  of  his  riding-boot 
with  his  crop.  The  riding-boots  were  not  inexpensive  and 
the  crop  was  a  beauty. 

"  I  think  I  Qould  say  better  what  I've  got  to  say  if  you 
were  to  turn  round,"  Doniphan  remarked  in  parenthesis. 
"  I  dislike  saying  disagreeable  things  of  people  behind 
their  backs." 

Thus  encouraged  Reggie  faced  him  again. 

"  While  we  are  on  the  subject,  you  might  tell  me  how 
much  else  you  owe,  and  whom  you  owe  it  to,"  Doniphan 
went  on  in  the  same  tone. 

"  I  came  here  intending  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it," 
Reggie  faltered,  though  he  was  doing  his  best  to  keep 
cool.  "  I  owe  Leverson  twenty-five  hundred,  and  he's  got 
my  note  for  it.  That's  the  sum  total  of  the  whole  thing, 
honor  bright,  except  this  trifle  from  Thallon,  and  one  or 
two,  at  the  most  four  or  five,  Httle  accounts  in  Brockton. 
This  Leverson  accommodation  represents  practically  every- 
thing for  the  last  two  or  three  years.  He  insisted  on  mak- 
ing the  loan  just  after  I  got  back  from  Europe.  I  was 
pressed  to  death  for  money  ;  the  governor  had  washed 
hisr  hands  of  me,  and  this  beastly  Dupr6  mess  hadn't  so 
much  as  put  its  nose  in  sight." 

"  Did  you  ever  know  Leverson  give  away  anything  ? 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  his  advancing  money  to  any  human 
being  without  exacting  its  due  return  with  usury  ?  Now^ 
did  you  ? "  Doniphan  demanded  impatiently. 

"  I  never  said  it  was  a  gift,"  Reggie  retorted.  "  On 
the  contrary,  I've  just  said  it  was  a  loan,  a  regular  note 
carrying  six  per  cent." 

Doniphan  gave  a  snort  and  that  peculiar  action  of  the 
shoulders  which  with  him  expressed  more  contempt  than 
any  mere  words  could  have  done. 


246  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  It  carried  a  good  deal  more  than  six  per  cent,  and  you 
know  it  now  if  you  didn't  know  it  then,"  he  said  savagely. 
"  It  carried  the  price  of  your  neutrality  in  this  Dupre  affair. 
Bah  !  you  might  have  known  he  never  gave  anything  away." 

"  He  gives  Faucon  a  good  deal  for  the  Church,"  Reggie 
said,  in  a  tone  that  implied  he  might  have  made  a  cata- 
logue of  Leverson's  benefactions  if  Doniphan  had  only 
given  him  time. 

"  Not  at  all.  Every  cent  of  that's  put  away  for  a  rainy 
day.  Without  having  any  religion  Leverson  has  what 
usually  fills  that  vacuum,  —  considerable  latent  superstition. 
It  has  struck  him  that  in  case,  on  the  day  of  judgment, 
Revealed  Religion  should  turn  out  to  amount  to  something 
after  all,  such  an  investment  in  its  securities  would  come 
in  handy.  It's  simply  a  sight  draft  on  Heaven.  Can't 
you  think  of  anything  else  .''  " 

Reggie  making  no  attempt  to  think  of  anything  else, 
his  disagreeable  entertainer  continued  in  the  same  strain, 
for  Doniphan  was  now  in  one  of  his  worst  tempers  and 
had  forgotten  all  about  the  time. 

"  You  may  as  well  finish  the  whole  thing  up,"  he  went 
on  after  another  turn  or  two  about  the  room.  "You  say 
you  came  up  here  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it.  After 
having  done  so  as  thoroughly  as  you  have,  what  did  you 
expect  me  to  do .-'  When  people  get  themselves  into  a 
mess  like  this,  they  always  expect  me  to  do  something ;  I 
suppose  you're  no  exception  to  the  rule." 

"  I  thought  —  perhaps  — you  could  advise  me." 

"  And  you  expected  nothing  but  advice  ? " 

"  No !  I  can't  lie  about  it,  "  Reggie  put  in  with  sudden 
courage.  "  I  thought,  considering  these  unforeseen  cir- 
cumstances,—  the  horrible  position  I'm  in  toward  Lever- 
son,  —  I  thought  perhaps  you  might  help  me  to  clear  this 
thing  off.  For  it  has  got  to  be  cleared  off  somehow.  I 
simply  can't  meet  the  man  as  it  is." 


REGGIE   MAKES   A   CLEAN   BREAST  OF  IT  247 

Doniphan's  look  softened,  for  he  had  a  special  respect 
for  the  truth  when  told  under  difficulties,  and  no  one 
could  have  seen  Reggie  then  and  suspected  him  of  playing 
a  part.  His  distress  was  too  obviously  genuine.  Yet 
Doniphan  stuck  closely  to  his  point. 

"I  wonder  if  it  ever  struck  you,"  he  said  after  a  pause, 
"that  your  salvation  rests  entirely  with  yourself.  I  was 
down  at  your  studio  some  weeks  since  with  Madge,  just 
before  you  came  back. '  I  don't  pretend  to  be  a  connois- 
seur in  art  matters,  but  a  man  can  hardly  spend  ten  years 
in  Italy,  as  I  have,  without  learning  something  about  it. 
I  saw  enough  of  your  work  to  know  that  you  could  make 
a  living,  and  a  very  handsome  living,  if  you  chose.  I 
also  saw  what  I  should  estimate  as  four  or  five  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  bric-a-brac,  if  that  kind  of  thing  brings 
anything  like  what  it  did  in  1870." 

"  You  don't  mean  you  would  have  me  sell  it !  "  Reggie 
exclaimed,  with  as  much  horror  as  if  Doniphan  had  asked 
him  to  sell  his  soul.  "  It  would  be  the  same  thing  as  sell- 
ing my  profession ;  I  simply  couldn't  work  without  it." 

"Then  neither  your  work  nor  you  amount  to  much," 
Doniphan  returned  composedly. 

"  Would  you  like  to  sell  your  books  ? "  This  was  a 
brilliant  thrust  on  Reggie's  part,  suggested  by  the  priceless 
treasures  he  saw  about  him  and  his  knowledge  of  Doni- 
phan's love  for  them. 

"  Like  to  sell  them  —  no !  but  I  would  sell  them,  and 
go  through  the  misery  of  it  twenty  times  over,  before  I'd 
owe  money  to  a  man  I  stood  in  the  same  relation  to  that 
you  stand  to  Leverson,  or  to  any  one  else,  either,  who  was 
fool  enough  to  get  me  out  of  it.  Why  try  to  shift  the 
burden  on  me  .-*  Sacrifices,  like  charity,  begin  at  home, 
though  they  are  much  less  likely  to  stay  there." 

"  I'll  try ;  I'll  think  of  it,"  Reggie  said  desperately,  after 
another  pause,  during  which  Doniphan  watched  him  closely. 


248  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

"  No  need  of  that.  Better  decide  now.  It  may  take 
more  courage  than  to  shoot  Leverson  from  behind  a  tree, 
but  not  more  courage  than  you've  got." 

"  I  never  said  I'd  shoot  him  from  behind  a  tree,"  Reggie 
cried  indignantly. 

"Oh,  well!  don't  let's  waste  time  over  that.  I'll  give 
you  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  But  what  have  you  decided 
about  the  bric-a-brac  .-'  " 

"  I'll  sell  it  and  pay  everything,"  Reggie  said  with  a  gulp. 

"  Honor  bright  ? " 

"  Honor  bright." 

"  And  then  go  to  work  ?  " 

"Yes,  I'll  go  to  work." 

"  Good  !  Then  I'll  back  you  up  and  keep  in  touch  with 
you  !  "  Doniphan  said  with  one  of  his  bursts  of  sunshine 
breaking  through  the  storm-clouds,  "  I'll  be  a  much  better 
friend  to  you  and  Madge  than  if  I  handed  you  over  twenty- 
five  hundred  dollars.  And  now  I  must  be  going  ;  the  gig's 
been  waiting  at  the  door  this  twenty  minutes  while  I've 
been  sermonizing.  Let  me  see,"  and  Doniphan  plunged 
into  the  pages  of  a  small  memorandum  book  to  the  instant 
exclusion  of  Reggie  and  Reggie's  salvation. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

"but  kept  all  these  things  and  pondered  them  in 

HER   heart" 

When  Margaret  reached  her  room  that  night,  she  found 
that  Leverson  had  already  retired,  his  peaceful  slumbers 
being  quite  audible  through  the  carefully  bolted  door  of 
his  dressing  room.  She  knew,  of  course,  that  he  must 
have  been  cognizant  of  what  she  had  done ;  his  not  finding 
her  at  Elmhurst  on  his  return,  coupled  with  what  had  gone 
before,  would  have  told  him  that  without  any  assistance 
from  Miss  Laurie,  yet  he  had  cared  so  little  about  it  that 
he  had  not  even  taken  the  trouble  to  sit  up  for  her. 

His  arbitrary  command  on  his  departure  from  Elmhurst 
in  the  early  evening,  this  subsequent  dismissal  of  the  whole 
subject  from  his  mind,  rather  than  allow  it  to  interfere  with 
a  gt)od  night's  rest,  seemed  horribly  typical  of  a  man  who 
could  be  keenly  sensitive  to  anything  trenching  on  his  own 
authority,  while  utterly  indifferent  to  that  side  of  the  ques- 
tion which,  to  her,  made  it  a  question  of  right  and  wrong. 

She  had  dismissed  Alice  on  first  entering  the  house,  and 
having  made  sure  that  Leverson  slept,  had  returned  to  the 
broad  window-seat  of  her  own  chamber,  where  she  sat  look- 
ing out  on  the  profound  calm,  still  reigning  in  the  world 
outside. 

It  was  in  strange  contrast  to  the  tumult  of  conflicting 
hopes,  longings,  doubts,  and  fears  which  struggled  for 
mastery  within  her. 

She  had  acquiesced  in  what  Mobray  Doniphan  had  said. 

249 


250  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

She  had  promised  to  try  once  more  to  cut  out  of  her  soul 
all  growth,  all  expansion,  all  uplifting  desire  for  usefulness, 
because  in  that  way  alone  could  she  fulfil  the  letter  of  her 
bond,  but  she  was  no  more  convinced  that  it  was  the  right 
thing  to  do  than  she  had  been  before. 

That  Doniphan's  controlling  thought  in  all  that  he  had 
said  to  her  had  been  the  guarding  her  from  a  greater  dan- 
ger never  for  an  instant  entered  her  mind ;  that  the  cir- 
cumstances of  her  life  held  all  the  elements  of  her  own 
ruin,  from  the  religious  and  social  point  of  view,  she  was 
far  too  innocent  to  even  guess. 

She  used  every  argument  she  could  conjure  up  upon  the 
other  side.  She  told  herself  unsparingly  that  she  was  less 
anxious  that  good  should  come  into  dependent  lives  than 
that  it  should  come  through  her.  And  that  was  true.  Her 
life  had  been  self-centred ;  no  one  knew  that  better  than 
she,  but  would  it  be  less  so  when  she  had  thrown  these  poor 
little  ambitions  aside  and  had  devoted  herself  to  the  small 
social  triumphs  which  belonged  to  the  part  assigned  her.'' 

She  tried  her  best  as  she  analyzed  her  motives  in  what 
she  had  done  that  night,  to  find  some  real  flaw  in  them 
that  she  might  honestly  repent  of. 

Ever  since  that  day  at  the  Lindleys',  Thallon  had  quite 
impersonally  represented  to  her  a  force  working  toward 
better  things,  —  things  all  the  more  precious  to  have  come 
through  strife. 

He  had  spoken  of  it  as  something  new  in  his  life  ;  had 
implied  that  this  evolution  of  the  better  in  himself  had 
come  through  her,  and  she  was  forced  to  admit  that  in 
that  last  confession  she  had  found  her  keenest  pleasure. 

She  had  thought  of  that  when  she  had  succumbed,  almost 
without  a  protest  to  Doniphan's  words,  to  the  overwhelming 
consciousness  that  such  a  man  could  take  part  against  her. 
Her  great  comfort  lay  in  the  fact  that  if  she  succeeded  in 
making  her  sacrifice  complete,  "  he  would  know." 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN  HER  HEART"     25 1 

She  clung  to  that  human  sympathy  and  comprehension 
with  the  more  tenacity  that  at  times  everything  else 
seemed  tottering.  It  was  rather  curious  that  though  her 
religion  could  have  asked  nothing  harder  of  her  than  this 
man  had  asked,  it  seemed  when  she  turned  to  it  so  cold 
and  lifeless,  while  his  face  shone  out  in  comprehension  and 
pity,  in  spite  of  all  its  firmness. 

If  she  could  hold  on  to  mere  human  tenderness  like  that, 
why  could  she  not  grasp  the  Grand  Central  Truth  of  an 
Infinite  Fatherhood  of  which  Doniphan  had  reminded  her 
in  those  last  words  of  his,  even  if  she  could  not  realize 
the  Christian  conception  of  an  Incarnate  God  .-• 

A  vision  of  Ashton  Leverson,  completely  satisfied  with 
his  own  character,  ruthlessly  indifferent  to  anything  out- 
side his  own  desires,  nay,  utterly  unconscious  of  anything 
beyond  them,  demanding  and  getting  all  he  wanted, — a  per- 
sonification of  what  his  world  called  success,  —  thrust  itself 
between  her  and  her  belief. 

How  could  she  help  holding  Infinite  Power  responsible 
for  triumphant  wrong  .-•  Yet  her  instinct  at  the  moment 
was  not  that  of  the  fool  who  crieth,  "  There  is  no  God  !  " 
but  that  of  a  bruised  and  crushed  soul  that  asks  in  its 
suffering,  "  How  can  this  thing  be .' " 

Margaret  Leverson,  not  yet  one  and  twenty,  was  facing 
the  most  impenetrable  of  all  mysteries,  —  the  mystery  of 
evil.     It  rang  in  her  ears  in  that  one  line  of  Lowell :  — 

Truth  fordier  on  the  scaffold,  wrong  forever  on  the  throne. 

Suddenly  she  paused  as  if  to  listen.  The  wrong  of 
which  Lowell  wrote  was  no  longer  on  the  throne ;  nay 
more,  the  very  men  who  had  held  it  there  no  longer  re- 
gretted its  dethronement.  The  purification  had  come 
slowly,  but  it  had  come  in  God's  own  time,  when  men  had 
earned  it  with  poured-out  blood  and  treasure,  —  not  before. 

The  terrible  rigidity  of  the  oath  which  bound  her  seemed 


252  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

to  burn  itself  into  her  very  soul ;  an  oath  she  must  answer 
for  at  the  dreadful  day  of  judgment  when  the  secrets  of 
all  hearts  should  be  disclosed. 

She  met  the  awful  challenge  with  a  passionate,  inward 
cry.  How  could  she  have  known .''  She  had  been  a  mere 
child ;  her  father  had  told  her  that  her  mother  would  have 
wished  it.  Aunt  Abby  had  said  it  would  be  the  making 
of  Ashton.  It  had  seemed  to  her  the  opening  of  an  enor- 
mous field  for  usefulness,  Ashton  himself  had  entered  so 
anxiously  into  all  her  suggestions ;  he  had  been  so  much  in 
love  with  her  then. 

In  that  first  dim  realization  of  her  own  powerlessness 
she  sank  on  her  knees  in  a  flood  of  contrition  as  scalding 
as  the  tears  which  filled  those  eyes  of  hers,  so  unused  to 
tears.  Why  had  she  asked  to  know  ?  Why  had  she 
asked  to  see  }  She  was  not  called  to  guide  the  world ; 
nor  even  to  guide  herself.  Merely  to  keep  her  promise, 
and  wait. 

She  felt  stronger  with  the  coming  thought.  She  re- 
solved to  throw  herself  with  renewed  enthusiasm  into  those 
small  matters  which  were  all  important  to  Leverson.  Her 
New  York  and  Newport  seasons  had  always  seemed  to  her 
very  full  of  a  kind  of  gayety  for  which  she  personally 
cared  nothing,  but  of  which  Ashton  was  extravagantly 
fond,  whenever  he  had  enough  ready  money  to  entertain 
as  he  liked.  Though  her  personal  allowance  was  ex- 
tremely small,  compared  to  the  calls  made  upon  it,  and 
paid  over  to  her  with  considerable  irregularity,  Leverson 
never  begrudged  his  wife's  running  up  bills  for  expensive 
dressing  if  he  were  allowed  to  take  his  time  in  paying  them. 

She  lay  awake  for  another  hour  after  getting  to  bed, 
trying  to  realize  the  importance  of  all  this.  She  could 
readily  get  assistance  in  the  task  of  planning  draperies. 
Mildred  would  spend  weeks  consulting  with  dressmakers, 
if  one  or  two  combinations  for  her  own  use  were  included 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN   HER  HEART"      253 

in  the  catalogue,  and  there  would  be  no  trouble  on  that  score, 
for  Mildred  was  to  be  at  the  Newport  place  in  August. 

When  the  morrow  came,  she  had  slept  exactly  two 
hours,  but  it  had  been  enough  to  give  her  the  strength  she 
needed.  She  was  young,  and  her  physical  health  was 
perfect.  It  was  in  the  gray  of  the  early  morning  that  she 
got  up ;  she  was  impatient  to  be  stirring,  pleased  that 
her  hands  were  as  firm  as  ever  as  she  completed  a  toilet 
upon  which  she  had  bestowed  more  care  than  usual,  select- 
ing a  morning  dress  she  thought  Leverson  fancied,  —  not 
because  he  had  said  so,  but  because  he  had  not  said  any- 
thing to  the  contrary. 

She  went  downstairs  cautiously  that  she  might  disturb 
no  one  at  an  hour  sacred  in  Elmhurst  to  profound  slumber. 
The  servants,  of  course,  were  astir  at  the  back  of  the 
house,  the  great  front  door  wide  open  for  the  early 
morning  airing,  but  she  met  none  of  her  own  species, 
which  was  quite  as  she  wished  it  to  be. 

Once  outside,  however,  she  was  greeted  by  an  on-rush 
of  dogs  just  released  from  their  kennels  in  the  rear,  a 
friendliness  which  fitted  better  into  her  mood.  She  man- 
aged to  keep  them  quiet  by  a  judicious  distribution  of 
caresses  and  an  immediate  adjournment  to  the  garden, 
feeling  herself  freshening  wonderfully  under  the  stimulant 
of  the  morning  air  and  the  evident  sincerity  of  these 
demonstrations  of  canine  affection. 

Turning  abruptly  to  the  left  past  the  yew  hedges,  she 
walked  on  briskly  through  the  great  rear  garden,  following 
a  path  which  led  with  many  curves  and  windings  toward 
the  landing  at  the  river. 

Margaret  had  just  descended  a  short  flight  of  stone 
steps,  built  into  the  first  of  a  series  of  terraces  breaking 
the  sharp  decline,  when  she  came  unexpectedly  upon  two 
figures  moving  more  slowly  in  the  same  direction  and 
bent,  apparently,  like  herself,  on  taking  the  morning  air, 


254  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Though  their  backs  were  toward  her,  she  recognized  them 
on  the  instant  as  Miss  Laurie's  maid,  Celeste,  and  that 
unfortunate  dependent,  Jane  Kirk. 

Margaret  came  to  an  abrupt  halt,  a  feeling  of  annoy- 
ance taking  possession  of  her;  for  her  overwhelming 
desire  at  the  moment  was  to  be  alone.  Her  feeling  for 
the  feeble-minded  Jane  had  never  got  beyond  the  bounds 
of  ordinary  pity,  for  Miss  Laurie's  wishes  as  to  having 
the  woman  left  alone  were  well  known  at  Elmhurst,  but 
there  had  always  been  something  about  the  other  woman, 
Celeste,  which  she  positively  disliked. 

Even  at  that  instant  when  the  woman,  hearing  Mar- 
garet's light  footfall,  turned  and  saw  her  and  stood  aside 
on  the  pathway  to  let  the  lady  of  Elmhurst  pass,  as  any 
well-trained  servant  would  have  done,  —  even  then  there 
was  a  subtle,  indefinable  quality  in  her  manner  which, 
could  it  have  been  called  anything,  would  have  been 
called   insolent. 

She  was  tall,  dark,  and  strikingly  handsome,  and  though 
her  deep  rich  coloring  was  so  near  the  tone  of  burnished 
copper  as  to  suggest  Indian  or  African  blood,  her  features 
had  all  the  clear-cut  regularity  of  the  high-class  European. 
Her  irreproachable  gravity  was  not  in  the  least  shaken 
by  the  necessity  of  keeping  a  restraining  hand  upon  the 
arm  of  her  charge,  who  had  evidently  been  startled  by  this 
sudden  appearance  of  Mrs.  Leverson,  and  now  stood  there 
staring  at  her  with  sharp  suspicion  while  she  mumbled  to 
herself  in  some  unintelligible  jargon.  Margaret's  first 
sensation  of  annoyance  gave  way  to  genuine  sympathy  as 
she  glanced  at  the  suffering  woman. 

"You  are  out  early,"  she  said  with  a  kindly  glance 
at  Jane  Kirk,  though  she,  of  course,  addressed  Celeste. 
"  I  hope  your  patient  is  no  worse." 

The  woman  nodded  her  head  almost  imperceptibly,  and 
formed  the  two  words  "Very  bad,"    with  her  lips    with- 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN   HER  HEART"     255 

out  pronouncing  them,  for  Jane  was  following  every  move- 
ment made  by  either  with  hawklike  keenness.  Suddenly 
she  concentrated  into  the  look  she  had  fixed  on  Margaret 
a  wealth  of  crafty  cunning  which  lighted  up  a  face  a 
moment  before  absolutely  vacant. 

"  We're  not  the  only  people  who  can't  sleep  at  Elm- 
hurst,"  she  remarked  in  a  confidential  whisper  though  the 
words  were  perfectly  clear.  "  They  keep  you  up  too,  — 
the  woman  and  the  man  who  looks  like  her  and  like  him 
too.  You  must  have  gone  to  see  him  last  night ;  I  know 
you  did,  for  I  heard  you  come  in  late,  though  Celeste 
denied  it.  I  would  have  gone  to  him  myself  long  ago 
if  I'd  dared,  but  they  watch  me  so  day  and  night  —  day 
and  night  They're  afraid  I'll  give  him  what  I've  got 
hidden,  but  they  needn't  be.  No  one  shall  ever  have  it 
but  Ashton  —  Ashton  Leverson.  Who  has  ever  loved  him 
as  I  have  loved  him  }  Didn't  I  nurse  him }  —  yet  they  let 
you  come  and  go  as  you   will,  —  you  who    hate  him." 

The  last  words  were  said  with  sudden  fury,  the  voice 
rising  so  that  she  fairly  flung  this  accusation  at  Margaret 
with  withering  scorn,  while  her  thin  clinched  hands  and 
wild  eyes  suggested  the  imminence  of  a  pers6nal  attack. 

But  with  the  quickness  of  lightning  Celeste's  strong 
hands  had  caught  the  woman's  wrists,  and  she  was  look- 
ing steadily  down  into  eyes  that  had  already  begun  to 
shrink  before  hers. 

"  You  will  only  do  him  harm  by  this,"  she  said  with 
slow  impressiveness,  "  He  would  be  very  angry  if  he 
knew  you  had  behaved  so.  He  would  send  you  away. 
If  this  lady  were  to  tell  him  what  you  have  done,  he  would 
send  you  away  at  once." 

Margaret  had  turned  deadly  pale,  not  from  any  sense 
of  personal  danger,  for  she  had  none,  but  from  the  horrid 
malignancy  that  seemed  to  underlie  the  woman's  crazy, 
words. 


256  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

As  soon  as  she  saw  poor  Jane  reduced  to  penitent  tears 
at  Celeste's  threat,  she  said  with  a  touch  of  severity :  — 

"  Mr.  Leverson  must  be  told  of  this,  of  course.  Neither 
he  nor  I  had  any  idea  she  was  in  this  state." 

"  I  beg,  madam,  you  will  do  nothing  hastily  without  con- 
sulting Miss  Laurie,"  the  woman  returned,  with  something 
less  than  her  usual  calmness.  "  Jane  is  very  seldom  like 
this,  and  would  not  be  so  at  all  if  we  could  keep  her  com- 
pletely by  ourselves.  The  sight  of  so  many  strangers  is 
what  upsets  her.  She'll  be  perfectly  rational  when  the 
family's  away  in  August." 

Margaret  turned  abruptly  and  walked  on  toward  the 
river  without  answering  this  argument.  It  was  quite  clear 
to  her  that  her  errand  of  the  night  before  had  aroused 
discussion  below  stairs  which  had  reached  Celeste,  and 
through  her  had  made  its  impression  on  Jane  Kirk's 
crazy  brain.  The  thought  itself  would  have  been  a  suffi- 
cient humiliation,  even  if  she  had  not  caught  some  sort 
of  confirmation  of  it  out  of  the  corner  of  Celeste's  respect- 
fully lowered  eyes. 

All  the  beauty  seemed  gone  out  of  the  morning  sun- 
light. She  got  through  the  hour  and  a  half  before  break- 
fast time  idly  watching  the  river  from  a  seat  in  an  old 
summer-house,  but  she  felt  thankful  when  her  watch  told 
her  it  was  time  to  go  back. 

The  Colonel  was  already  in  his  place,  and  Miss  Laurie 
had  started  to  pour  the  coffee  when  she  got  in.  Margaret 
claimed  her  place  with  her  usual  morning  salutations. 

"  I  hardly  looked  for  you  so  early,"  the  old  lady  said, 
with  more  than  her  usual  politeness ;  "  you  deserved  an 
extra  half  hour,  you  were  up  so  late.  Who  brought  you 
back,  child  ?  I  know  you  drove,  because  I  heard  the 
wheels.     I  suppose  it  was  the  Faucons',  wasn't  it .-'  " 

"  No,  Mr.  Doniphan,"  Margaret  returned,  as  she  handed 
the  Colonel's  coffee  to  Morgan  who  at  the  moment  was 
more  sphinxlike  than  ever. 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN  HER  HEART"     257 

"  Oh,  then  you  did  go  to  the  hospital  after  all,"  the 
Colonel  put  in  absently  from  behind  the  morning  paper, 
as  he  caught  the  words.  "  It  was  a  scandalous  affair  — 
perfectly  scandalous.  Doniphan  told  me  that  they'd  got 
wind  of  the  rascal  who  did  it,  and  I  only  hope  they'll 
catch  him.  I  shall  step  in  and  see  Cheeseman  on  my  way 
to  the  train,  —  I've  got  to  catch  the  nine-twenty.  By  the 
way,  though  I'm  back  in  Brockton  to-morrow  for  the 
Leverson  special  meeting,  I  shall  hardly  get  out  to 
Elmhurst,  as  I've  got  work  with  our  Executive  Committee 
at  Harrisburg  in  the  afternoon,  so  I  may  not  see  you 
again  before  you're  off  for  Newport" 

Margaret  had  never,  perhaps,  felt  more  grateful  to  her 
father  in  her  life  than  for  the  way  he  had  come  to  her 
assistance  without  in  the  least  knowing  what  he  was  doing. 
He  chatted  on  pleasantly  about  various  matters  until  he 
took  his  departure  just  after  Leverson  made  his  appear- 
ance. No  one  at  Elmhurst  was  in  the  least  ceremonious, 
but  the  Colonel  felt  more  comfortable  to  shake  hands  with 
his  son-in-law  at  parting,  after  accepting  four  weeks'  board 
and  lodging  for  himself  and  his  unmarried  daughter. 
That  was  what  the  Colonel  would  have  called  "  belonging 
to  thtf  old  school." 

As  for  the  head  of  the  house,  he  appeared  quite  unusu- 
ally gracious,  though  he  did  not  go  out  of  his  way  to 
include  Margaret  in  such  signs  of  condescension  as  he 
bestowed  on  Mildred,  for  example,  when  she  presently 
put  in  her  appearance,  smothering  a  yawn  behind  a  lace- 
edged  handkerchief. 

It  struck  Margaret  that  this  lack  of  any  demonstration 
toward  herself  indicated,  under  the  circumstances,  a  cer- 
tain refinement  of  feeling  which  she  instantly  reproached 
herself  for  not  having  seen  in  him  before.  In  this  new 
self-abasement  she  was  on  the  lookout  for  everything  that 
was  best  in  him. 


258  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Leverson  always  spent  an  unconscionable  time  over  his 
breakfast,  and  to-day  he  was  even  longer  than  usual. 
Glancing  leisurely  through  a  batch  of  New  York  Sunday 
newspapers,  which  he  had  not  found  time  to  finish  yester- 
day afternoon,  he  nevertheless  managed  to  say  a  good 
deal  to  Mildred  about  the  Newport  plans.  If  he  cherished 
any  ill  feeling  toward  his  wife  for  her  abominable  behavior 
of  the  night  before,  he  showed  it,  if  at  all,  in  more  or  less 
excluding  her  from  his  references  to  these  forthcoming 
gayeties. 

It  was  :  "  We  must  really  get  that  in."  "  There's  no  rea- 
son in  the  world  why  you  shouldn't  stay  on  for  that." 
"The  Colonel  says  you  won't  have  to  be  back  in  Harris- 
burg  before  late  September,  and  you  wouldn't  have  to 
come  then  if  I  hadn't  promised  to  take  him  down  to 
Currituck  duck  shooting." 

Mildred  was  delightfully  responsive.  The  Gilbreed 
family,  as  represented  by  the  Colonel  and  his  younger 
daughter,  had  never  been  more  appreciative  of  the  Lever- 
son  advantages.  If  it  occurred  to  Margaret  that  consider- 
ing she  was  expected  to  chaperon  the  girl  Mildred  might 
have  shown  some  acknowledgment  of  the  fact,  she  frowned 
down  the  idea  as  unworthy  of  that  larger  view  of  things 
she  had  determined  upon.  She  knew  that  Mildred,  with 
her  keen  sense  of  the  proprieties,  would  have  been  far 
from  satisfied  with  the  kind  of  oversight  she  would  have 
got  out  of  Miss  Laurie,  but  on  the  other  hand,  Margaret 
told  herself  she  was  not  going  to  Newport  on  Mildred's 
account,  but  on  Leverson's. 

At  length  Ashton  rose  and  sauntered  off  into  his  study 
to  light  his  cigar ;  Miss  Laurie  went  upstairs,  as  she  always 
did  after  breakfast,  to  get  her  crochet  work ;  while  Mildred, 
picking  up  a  novel  from  the  sideboard,  where  she  had  laid 
it  on  coming  downstairs,  wandered  out  on  to  the  veranda. 

As  Margaret  had  been  waiting  for  this  opportunity  for 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN  HER  HEART"     259 

something  like  eight  hours,  she  lost  no  time  in  following 
Leverson  into  the  study,  closing  the  door  behind  her.  He 
had  seated  himself  with  his  bundle  of  papers  beside  the 
open  window,  but  when  he  saw  her  enter  the  room,  he  got 
up  again ;  Leverson  never  treated  his  wife  to  that  amount 
of  politeness  unless  he  was  on  his  guard.  He  thought  he 
knew  pretty  well  what  was  coming.  He  even  felt  a  certain 
sort  of  impersonal  interest  as  to  how  it  was  going  to  turn  out. 

"  You  don't  mind  my  smoking  ? "  he  asked,  moving  a 
chair  for  her. 

She  shook  her  head  without  speaking.  For  the  moment 
she  could  not  speak  the  hard  lump  in  her  throat  hurt  her 
so  cruelly.  She  leaned  heavily  against  the  back  of  the 
chair  he  had  placed  for  her,  but  made  no  movement  to 
take  it.  Leverson,  considering  he  had  been  sufficiently 
courteous,  relapsed  into  his  own  easy-chair  and  took  up 
one  of  his  newspapers,  though  he  did  not  begin  to  read. 
If  she  had  anything  to  say,  he  was  quite  ready  to  hear  it ; 
he  was  rather  curious  than  otherwise  to  see  what  sort  of  a 
case  she  could  make  out. 

"You  know  already  that  I  went  to  the  hospital  last 
night  after  you  left  Elmhurst,"  she  began  as  soon  as  she 
felt  §he  could  control  her  voice. 

Leverson's  face  lit  up  with  a  disagreeable  smile,  but  he 
only  nodded  by  way  of  answer, 

"  I  have  come  to  acknowledge  that  I  was  very  much  in 
the  wrong  to  have  done  what  you  distinctly  forbade  my 
doing,"  she  went  on  slowly.  "  I  want  to  ask  your  pardon 
for  that  before  anything  else." 

"  Did  Doniphan  tell  you  to  say  this  ? "  Leverson  asked, 
his  color  rising  slightly  as  he  glanced  up  at  her  from  over 
the  top  of  his  paper. 

The  question  was  a  staggering  one  to  Margaret.  It  had 
not  entered  her  mind  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  drag 
Mr.  Doniphan  into  the  discussion.     She  had  been  willing 


26o  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

to  drink  the  cup  of  self-abasement  to  the  dregs,  but  this 
added  bitterness  seemed  so  useless.  Leverson,  not  of 
course  following  the  trend  of  her  thoughts,  took  her 
silence  for  assent. 

"  Odd,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  as  he  knocked  the 
ashes  from  his  cigar  on  to  the  carpet.  "  What  nasty 
object  can  he  have  in  patching  this  thing  up  ? " 

It  was  not  very  long  before  that  Margaret  Leverson 
would  have  "  fired  up  "  at  the  innuendo,  but  at  the  moment 
it  did  not  seem  to  her  as  if  even  this  "mattered."  She 
recognized  then,  as  she  never  had  before,  that  Leverson 
had  her  in  his  keeping  to  do  with  as  he  liked.  Men  may 
make  what  marriage  laws  they  please  to  "  protect "  the 
woman.  If  she  be  what  is  called  "  a  good  woman,"  the 
power  to  make  or  mar  her  life  rests  with  the  man,  because 
God  made  it  so,  and  to  God  he  shall  answer  some  day  for 
the  trust. 

"  Mr.  Doniphan  only  advised  me,  because  I  met  him  at 
the  hospital  and  told  him  what  I  had  done,"  Margaret 
answered  in  a  voice  that  betrayed  her  weariness  though 
her  manner  was  very  earnest.  "  I  can  see  now  that  was 
an  additional  fault,  but  it  was  entirely  mine.  I  can  under- 
stand perfectly  why  you  should  be  annoyed  that  any  one 
outside  ourselves  should  know  of  any  difference  between 
us.  I  was  so  wretched  I  seemed  to  forget  everything, 
even  proper  pride." 

"  I  beg  you  won't  misunderstand  me,"  Leverson  returned 
in  his  coolest  tone,  for  he  could  well  afford  to  keep  cool  in 
the  presence  of  this  utter  breakdown  of  all  opposition, 
which,  while  it  pleased,  rather  surprised  him.  "  On  my 
own  account  I  have  no  objection  whatever  to  any  publicity 
you  choose  to  give  to  your  relationship  with  Mobray  Doni- 
phan or  any  of  your  other  masculine  admirers,  though  I 
do  wish,  for  your  sake,  you  showed  better  taste  in  choosing 
them.     Poor  Doniphan  is  so  painfully  old  and  ugly  that 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN  HER  HEART"     261 

he  appears  somewhat  ridiculous  in  the  light  of  a  lady's 
champion,  and  as  for  this  young  man  Thallon,  his  being 
one  of  my  own  hired  servants  makes  my  resenting  your 
rather  marked  interest  in  him  out  of  the  question." 

Le verso n  got  that  far  in  a  perfectly  even  voice,  but 
here,  chancing  to  glance  at  his  wife,  he  surprised  an 
expression  on  her  face,  of  mingled  horror  and  amazement, 
that  struck  him  as  out  of  all  proportion  to  what  he  had 
intended  as  a  half-playful  accusation.  As  has  been  said, 
he  did  not  believe  his  wife  capable  of  any  grave  wrong- 
doing ;  he  had  merely  taken  advantage  of  the  situation  to 
frighten  her  into  a  submission  likely  to  last  some  little  time. 
His  own  inherent  coarseness  made  it  impossible  for  him 
to  reahze  the  misery  of  such  a  view  to  her.  Her  whole 
attitude  and  expression  seemed  to  imply  that  she  had  not 
even  dreamed  of  the  possibility  of  such  a  view,  and  this, 
curiously  enough,  enraged  him.  He  had  no  intention  of 
allowing  her  to  play  the  part  of  misguided  innocence ; 
she  might  have  intended  no  unfaithfulness,  but  this  pre- 
tended ignorance  that  there  was  such  a  thing  was  a  little 
too  much.  With  all  his  faults  Leverson  was  no  hypocrite. 
Though  very  susceptible  to  flattery,  he  was  so  merely 
because  sufficiently  conceited  to  believe  in  its  sincerity. 
He  never  flattered  anybody  else,  least  of  all  his  wife.  Her 
obvious  insincerity  roused  his  righteous  ire,  and  he  went 
on  with  voice  and  color  both  rising :  — 

"  It  was  entirely  on  your  own  account  that  I  gave  you 
a  friendly  word  of  warning  last  night  before  you  put  the 
crowning  touch  to  your  absurdity.  My  protecting  myself 
against  the  consequences  of  your  behavior  lies  entirely  in 
my  own  hands.  You  may  go  where  you  please,  do  what 
you  please,  know  whom  you  please,  hold  any  relationship 
you  please,  but  by  the  living  Jingo,  you  shan't  hold  them 
while  you  are  living  with  me  as  my  wife.  I  can  certainly 
stand  a  grass-widowhood  if  you  can." 


262  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

She  knew  he  had  the  power  to  make  his  threat  good. 
No  woman  of  Margaret's  antecedents  braves  the  finger  of 
the  world  without  a  shudder ;  half  a  dozen  careless  words 
from  him  would  turn  it  upon  her  relentlessly.  In  her 
most  dread  forebodings  of  the  night  before  it  had  not  en- 
tered her  mind  that  he  would  take  this  course.  She  had 
told  herself  over  and  over  again  that  it  was  she  who  was 
exaggerating  the  seriousness  of  the  difference  between 
them.  A  frank  acknowledgment  that  she  had  been  hasty, 
in  error,  with  some  little  explanation  of  her  meaning,  would 
set  it  right.  She  blamed  herself  with  not  having  begun 
with  such  an  explanation,  though  her  only  reason  for  omit- 
ting it  had  been  that  he  would  take  it  as  an  excuse. 

"  Ashton,"  she  began,  concentrating  all  her  strength  on 
keeping  her  voice  steady,  "  I  have  not  been  intentionally 
disloyal  to  you  in  any  word  or  deed."  She  had  stopped 
abruptly,  and  the  color  rushed  to  her  face  as  she  remem- 
bered what  she  had  said  to  Doniphan. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  on  .'' "  Leverson  inquired  with  some- 
thing very  like  a  sneer. 

"  Because  that  was  not  altogether  true.  When  Mr. 
Doniphan  blamed  me  for  having  gone  to  the  hospital  with- 
out your  permission  —  I  mean  against  your  command  —  I 
told  him  you  had  not  bought  my  soul,  that  there  were 
things  which  seemed  to  me  imperatively  right,  that  I  must 
do  at  all  costs,  even  against  such  commands." 

"  Now  we  are  getting  at  it,"  Leverson  here  put  in  en- 
couragingly. "  It  was  probably  on  the  same  ground  that 
you  discussed  with  young  Thallon  the  advisability  of  his 
keeping  on  in  my  employ,  and  especially  of  his  continuing 
to  assist  me  in  my  literary  work,  which  I  understand 
you  assured  him  was  unworthy  of  his  talents,  because  it 
was  ineffably  stupid.  It  was  this  probably  that  made  you 
urge  him  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  a  very  disreputable  journal, 
the  chief  purpose  of  which  is  to  run  a  political  opposition 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN  HER  HEART"     263 

to  your  own  father.  All  these  things  were  doubtless  'imper- 
atively right,'  but  you'll  excuse  me  for  saying  that  coming 
from  you  they  were  in  deuced  bad  taste  and  can  hardly  be 
said  to  come  within  the  boundaries  of  ideal  loyalty." 

It  was  really  not  necessary  for  Leverson  to  have  gone 
quite  so  far  in  order  to  complete  her  humiliation.  If  he 
got  any  satisfaction  in  looking  at  the  girl's  face,  which 
instead  of  softening  had  turned  hard  as  stone,  he  was  wel- 
come to  it. 

"  We  may  as  well  look  at  this  thing  squarely,"  Leverson 
went  on  quite  dispassionately  again,  for  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  up  the  fires  of  wrath  when  no  one  would  answer 
him.  "  A  month  or  two  ago  it  might  have  been  difficult 
to  have  hit  on  any  plan  which  would  have  given  us  a 
chance  to  play  the  harmony  act,  but  lately  a  lucky  turn 
of  the  wheel  has  made  it  possible  for  me  to  offer  you  a 
choice  of  alternatives,  one  of  which  ought  in  all  conscience 
to  satisfy  you.  You  have  never  cared  a  brass  farthing 
about  me,  and  as  a  natural  consequence  I  can't  be  expected 
to  go  on  indefinitely  caring  about  you,  but  quite  outside 
of  sentiment,  we  might  manage  to  live  together  in  peace. 
If  you  wish  to  stick  to  your  marriage  rights,  I  have  as  yet 
no  cl^pice  but  to  go  on  as  we  are,  but  always  with  the  dis- 
tinct understanding  that  you  sail  under  my  orders.  If, 
however,  you  want  your  liberty,  I'm  perfectly  ready  to 
turn  you  over  to  the  Colonel  with  a  decent  settlement, 
provided  you  tell  him  with  your  own  lips  that  the  break- 
up's your  own  phoice.  All  this  is  made  possible  by  the 
agreeable  fact  that  I'm  going  to  leave  Brockton  within  a 
week  for  good  and  all.  I've  just  sold  the  Leverson  Car 
Works.  It's  the  best  turn  I've  had  this  long  time.  Within 
two,  or  at  farthest  three,  months,  I  shall  be  simply  swim- 
ming in  money.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  shall  do  as 
I  please.  When  it's  once  done,  this  miserable  little  hole 
may  sink  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  for  anything  I  care." 


264  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

He  paused,  presumably  to  see  the  effect  of  this  announce- 
ment, but  just  then  Margaret's  capacity  for  further  suffer- 
ing was  at  an  end.  She  stood  there  staring  down  at  him 
stupidly  —  yes,  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  looked 
stupid  —  her  face  as  expressionless  as  white  paper. 

"  Now,  what  I  wanted  to  say,"  he  went  on  carefully, 
"  was  that  I  don't  care  anything  about  legal  freedom.  My 
interests  don't  require  anything  of  that  kind,  and  I  don't 
suppose  yours  do.  I  could  well  afford  to  settle  Elmhurst, 
as  well  as  the  income,  on  you  for  life  in  such  a  quiet  way 
as  to  create  no  gossip.  You  could  go  on  Hving  here  almost 
indefinitely,  waiting  for  me  to  come  back  from  Europe.  I 
really  don't  see  how  you  could  expect  me  to  do  more ;  I'm 
giving  you  your  choice  between  the  two.  If  you  go  with 
me,  you  take  your  place  in  the  world  as  becomes  my  wife, 
and  you  take  my  standards  for  your  standards,  as  you'll 
take  me,  without  question.  It's  as  brilliant  a  place  as  would 
satisfy  most  women,  though  I  don't  expect  you  to  be  grate- 
ful; for  gratitude,  I've  discovered,  doesn't  run  in  the  Gil- 
breed  family.  I  loaned  Reggie  twenty-five  hundred  two 
weeks  ago,  and  when  I  met  him  at  the  hospital  last  night  his 
manner  was  positively  insolent.  However,  we  won't  waste 
time  going  into  details ;  you  can  tell  me  in  half  a  dozen 
words  whether  you  want  to  go  or  stay." 

The  girl  had  walked  over  to  one  of  the  long  windows 
which  opened  on  the  back  piazza  with  the  beautiful  old- 
fashioned  garden  just  below,  and  beyond  it,  in  the  distance, 
the  river.  She  stood  with  her  back  to  him  looking  out, 
one  arm  and  hand  lost  in  the  folds  of  the  heavy  curtain, 
the  other  raised  to  her  hot  forehead  in  an  effort  to  quiet 
its  throbbing. 

She  had  by  no  means  followed  all  he  had  said,  and  all 
she  followed  she  had  not  understood.  But  she  understood 
enough  to  know  that  she  was  at  a  crisis  of  her  life.  Her 
poor  little  plans  making  toward  mutual  confidence  lay  in 


"BUT  KEPT  ALL  THESE  THINGS  IN   HER   HEART"     265 

small  pieces  at  her  feet.  They  had  not  amounted  to  much, 
of  course.  She  had  intended  to  show  a  limitless  interest 
in  all  he  wanted  to  do,  and  in  return,  at  the  end,  if  things 
went  well,  to  plead  for  some  small  comprehension  of  her 
own  aims  and  purposes.  She  smiled  to  herself  a  hard 
little  smile  as  she  faced  this  very  different  problem  with 
which  her  aims  and  purposes  had  nothing  whatever  to  do. 
Her  eyes  caught  the  glint  of  the  river  where  it  turned  the 
bend  below  the  landing.  Beyond  the  bend  lay  the  long 
ill-smelling  wharves  of  Brockton,  backed  by  their  rows  on 
rows  of  warehouses  and  factories,  the  coal  pockets,  lumber 
yards,  and  tall  chimneys,  all  black  with  the  soft  coal  smoke. 
Farther  back  still  lay  the  quiet  streets  with  their  wide,  old- 
fashioned  gardens,  and  solid,  square,  old-fashioned  houses. 
It  was  not  a  very  striking  picture,  but  it  was  that,  and  not 
the  stately  Elmhurst  with  all  its  luxury,  which  called  to  her 
so  beseechingly  to  stay  with  them  and  let  this  man  go  his 
own  way.  She  tried  to  argue  with  herself  that  she  could 
do  no  good  to  him  or  any  one  else  by  going ;  tried  to  argue 
that  her  failure  as  a  wife  had,  for  all  time,  been  registered 
within  the  last  ten  minutes. 

And  the  reverse  of  the  shield  was  so  alluring,  so  subtly 
tempting.  She  could  reject  the  insulting  offer  of  the 
money  with  the  scorn  that  was  already  scorching  her  tongue 
for  utterance.  She  could  take  him  at  his  word,  and  let 
him  go, — go  on  leading  his  miserable,  worthless  life, — while 
she,  freed  from  this  living  death,  this  moral  leprosy,  rose 
to  a  proper  place  in  a  life  of  her  own  making. 

After  all,  would  it  not  be  the  righting  of  her  own  error } 
In  plain  terms,  had  she  not  married  Ashton  Leverson  for 
his  money,  none  the  less  so  that  she  had  wanted  to  use  it 
for  others,  not  for  herself }     Could  she  undo  that  now  ? 

The  raised  arm  had  dropped,  and  she  was  nervously 
clasping  and  unclasping  those  expressive  hands  of  hers,  the 
fingers  of  the  right  mechanically  turning  a  little  gold  ring 


266  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

on  the  third  finger  of  the  left.  As  she  glanced  down  at 
it,  Doniphan's  words  came  back  to  her,  "  To  be  true  to 
yourself  you  must  first  be  true  to  that."  Ah,  but  now  — 
now  that  he  had  offered  her  a  release  from  her  promise, 
was  it  not,  could  it  not  be  made,  merely  a  question  be- 
tween themselves .''  Had  she  not  a  perfect  right  to  take 
him  at  his  word  ? 

But  the  sophistry  was  apparent  to  her  even  for  the 
instant  she  harbored  it.  They  did  not  stand  alone.  The 
man  had  no  power  to  release  her  from  her  oath  because 
it  chafed  him  as  well  as  her.  Not  of  her  own  volition 
could  she  break  it.  The  thing  in  itself  was  sacred,  the 
corner-stone  of  a  nation's  morals. 

She  knew  that  Leverson  was  watching  her  with  a  cynical 
smile.  She  knew  —  and  the  knowledge  filled  the  measure 
he  had  given  her  until  it  seemed  pressed  down  and  running 
over  —  that  if  she  conquered  the  wild  longing  for  liberty, 
which  was  struggling  with  a  last  desperate  attempt  to  have 
its  way,  she  knew  he  would  set  it  down  to  mercenary 
motives.  Nevertheless  she  put  that  back  of  her  as  she 
had  put  all  else.  The  man  was  her  husband  ;  he  had 
committed  no  crime.  Did  it  matter,  after  all,  what  he  or 
any  one  else  thought  of  her  motives  ?  It  was  not  neces- 
sary she  should  claim  any  lofty  motive  —  make  any  claim 
at  all.  The  choice  was  before  her  —  all  she  had  to  do 
was  to  decide. 

She  walked  over  to  the  hall  door  with  recovered  firmness. 
With  her  hand  on  its  bronze  knob  she  turned  and  looked 
at  him  with  an  expression  that  was  entirely  beyond  him. 

"  I  shall  go  with  you,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that  sounded 
strangely  even  in  her  own  ears. 

An  instant  later  the  door  had  closed  behind  her  and 
Leverson  was  alone  with  his  triumph. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  FINDS  HIMSELF  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT 

When  Doniphan  left  the  shelter  of  Brockton's  magnifi- 
cent police  force,  he  did  so  no  wiser  about  the  Dupre  affair 
than  when  he  had  entered  it  fifteen  minutes  before. 
Finding  no  later  news  from  Lancaster  than  was  already 
his  by  telephone,  the  disappointed  applicant  for  news, 
after  a  word  or  two  about  the  case  with  the  astute  Cheese- 
man,  clambered  back  into  the  carryall  bent  on  finding 
Meyer. 

As  the  small  brick  structure  he  had  just  left  lay  on 
Judd  Street  near  Main,  he  had  quite  a  drive  before  he 
reached  the  densely  populated  tenement  district  back 
of  the  river  where  he  knew  Meyer  had  his  headquarters 
over  a  saloon  and  corner  grocery. 

H,^  had  stopped  there  several  times  before  on  his  after- 
noon drives  about  town  to  exchange  a  few  words  with 
this  curious  man,  who  had  excited  his  active  observation 
ever  since  he  had  first  encountered  him  one  Saturday 
night  escorting  home  Pat  Egan  and  his  wife  Molly,  both 
fighting  drunk. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Egan  occupied  what  might  have  been 
termed  a  prominent  position  in  their  own  particular  coterie, 
and  their  marital  difficulties  afforded  much  the  same  kind 
of  spicy  gossip  on  the  stairs  leading  to  their  apartments  as, 
in  a  higher  stratum,  finds  its  way  into  the  columns  of  our 
best  newspapers.  Hence  the  crowd  which  had  followed 
on  the  heels  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Egan  that  Saturday  evening 

267 


268  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

had  been  large  and  demonstrative,  filling  the  air  with  loud 
applause  when  Mrs.  Egan  had  declared  her  intention  of 
cutting  out  Mr.  Egan's  liver,  or  when  the  gentleman  had 
quite  naturally  retaliated  by  attempting  to  give  his  lady  a 
second  black  eye. 

Doniphan's  first  impulse,  like  that  of  any  other  sensible 
man,  had  been  to  call  the  police,  but  a  quick  word  of 
appeal  from  Meyer,  who  must  have  seen  his  intention, 
changed  his  plans. 

"  If  you  can  hold  back  the  crowd,  I  can  get  them  home," 
he  had  said  rather  breathlessly  ;  "  I  don't  want  them  locked 
up." 

It  rather  surprised  Doniphan,  when  he  came  to  think  of 
it  afterwards,  that  he  had  complied.  He  was  not  in  the 
habit  of  taking  orders  from  any  one,  certainly  not  from 
revivalist  preachers  of  the  Brockton  slums,  but  at  the 
moment  he  quite  forgot  that  what  he  was  doing  was  not 
in  accord  with  his  own  best  judgment.  Without  exactly 
knowing  why,  he  had  found  himself  making  a  rather 
energetic  Uttle  speech  to  a  variegated  audience,  whose 
attention  he  succeeded  in  holding,  more,  probably,  through 
the  novelty  of  such  a  man's  speaking  to  them  at  all,  than 
from  anything  he  said. 

Anyhow,  he  had  succeeded  in  covering  Meyer's  retreat, 
and  ever  since  he  had  been  conscious  of  a  feeling  of 
comradeship  with  this  singular  personality  whom  he  had 
not  known  before,  even  by  sight. 

He  climbed  the  two  flights  of  rickety  stairs  which  led 
up  between  the  corner  grocery  on  one  side  and  the  saloon 
on  the  other,  to  what  Meyer  called  his  "Church"  on  the 
third  floor,  with  rather  mixed  feelings  this  Monday  morning. 

Without  Doniphan's  having  intended  it  at  all,  Meyer 
had  taken  his  place  in  this  Dupre  affair,  and  the  Dupre 
affair,  spreading  out  its  tendrils  of  evil  consequences  on  all 
sides,  as  is  the  way  with  such  plants  of  ill  omen,  touched 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF   HIS   ELEMENT  269 

some  people  and  some  things  vitally  close  to  Doniphan, 
notably  Leverson,  and  through  Leverson,  Margaret. 

Doniphan  was  not  enjoying  his  day's  work  as  he 
groped  his  way  through  the  upper  hall,  which  was  pitchy 
dark,  until  his  hand  came  in  contact  with  a  broken  door- 
knob. Nevertheless,  he  opened  the  door  resolutely,  finding 
himself  in  a  long,  narrow  apartment,  running  the  entire 
depth  of  the  third  story,  which  bore  signs  of  recently 
removed  interior  partitions,  the  walls  being  papered  with 
large  and  small  squares  of  different  kinds  of  wall-paper  in 
various  stages  of  dilapidation. 

Three  small  windows  at  the  front  and  as  many  in  the 
rear  gave  the  place  what  daylight  it  had,  and  though  light 
by  contrast  with  the  hall  outside,  the  proximity  of  abutting 
walls,  which  came  up  close  to  the  rear  windows,  made  that 
end  of  the  room  dusky  even  at  this  hour  of  the  morning. 

Doniphan  could  with  difficulty  discern  a  slightly  raised 
platform  backed  by  a  folding  screen,  several  illuminated 
scriptural  texts  in  cheap  black  walnut  frames  which  hung 
at  intervals  on  the  side  walls,  while  below  them  a  motley 
collection  of  chairs  and  benches  ranged  in  rows  gave  the 
place  what  appearance  it  had  of  an  assembly  or  meeting 
rooga. 

At  his  entrance  the  place  was  so  still  that  it  impressed 
Doniphan  as  untenanted,  but  almost  at  that  moment  a 
figure  rose  from  one  of  the  front  benches  where  it  had 
been  bending  over  some  work,  and,  revealing  itself  in 
silhouette  against  the  gray  light  of  the  window,  was  rec- 
ognized by  the  intruder  as  the  rather  marked  figure  of  the 
Preacher. 

He  spoke  rapidly  to  an  assistant  beside  him, —  a  tall, 
spare  man  with  a  consumptive  cough,  — then  came  forward 
toward  this  late  arrival  with  a  smile  of  recognition. 

"I  cannot  shake  hands,"  he  remarked  apologetically  in 
his  careful  English,  as  Doniphan  held  out  his  with  instinc- 


270  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

tive  friendliness.  "Joel  and  I  are  cleaning  the  lamps,  and 
it  is  very  dirty  work.  I  was  out  late  last  night  at  the 
hospital,  so  we  are  behind  time  this  morning." 

"Yes,  I  remember,"  Doniphan  returned  a  little  absently, 
"  you  were  there  last  night.    Mr.  Thallon  was  doing  well.-* " 

"  But  this  morning  not  so  well,"  Meyer  went  on  in  his 
serious  way.  "  I  was  there  an  hour  or  two  ago.  He  had 
more  fever ;  they  would  not  let  me  see  him." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  this,"  Doniphan  said  anxiously. 
"  I  am  on  my  way  there  now ;  I  won't  keep  you  long  from 
your  work." 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it,"  the  Revivalist  put  in  with  grave 
politeness.  "  We  are  only  getting  ready  for  to-night,  when 
we  are  to  hold  a  meeting  for  the  raftsmen.  It  is  their 
busy  season,  as  you  know.  After  they  deliver  their  tim- 
ber at  the  mills,  they  get  their  pay  and  spend  it  all  before 
they  go  back  again,  within  a  day  or  two,  which  is  not 
right.  But  it  is  not  of  them  I  should  speak ;  it  is  rather 
what  can  I  do  for  you } " 

He  asked  the  question  as  if  his  being  expected  to  do 
something  were  the  natural  inference  of  this  call,  as,  per- 
haps, of  all  other  calls  upon  his  time,  but  his  tone  was 
singularly  free  from  any  suggestion  of  weariness ;  it  seemed" 
to  imply  an  inherent  happiness  in  this  doing  for  others 
which  had  no  relation  whatever  to  the  class  or  creed  of 
the  recipient.  High  or  low,  rich  or  poor,  free-thinker  or 
papist,  it  was  all  one  to  him,  if  they  but  asked  his  aid. 

But  the  alacrity  with  which  he  had  welcomed  this  new- 
comer had  a  much  deeper  significance  than  this.  He  had 
found  Mobray  Doniphan  doing  what  he  himself  believed 
to  be  his  Master's  work,  and  had  classed  him  instantly  as 
a  Disciple,  a  fact  which,  had  it  been  known  to  Doniphan, 
would  have  greatly  embarrassed  him.  But  Doniphan  did 
not  know,  and  so  the  whole  trend  of  what  followed  was 
more  or  less  a  puzzle  to  him. 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT     2/1 

They  stood  by  this  time  out  of  Joel's  hearing,  by  the 
brighter  light  of  the  front  window,  Doniphan's  eyes  fixed 
with  some  misgivings  on  one  of  the  framed  texts  which 
in  this  part  of  the  room  were  easily  readable.  Doniphan 
had  a  prejudice  against  framed  texts.  They  were  always 
connected  in  his  mind  with  the  enlarged  and  crayoned 
photographs  in  the  Lindley  front  parlor.  They  seemed 
to  leave  the  same  impression  on  the  brain  of  well-meaning 
but  misdirected  effort. 

Doniphan  did  not  allow  himself  to  dwell  upon  it.  Al- 
most as  the  man  spoke,  he  was  answering  him  with  his 
usual  brisk,  businesslike  brevity. 

"  I  came  to  tell  you  that  Dupr6  is  not  yet  captured, 
which  is  the  same  thing  as  saying  that  Louise  Dupr6  is 
in  danger.  He  will  do  the  girl  harm  if  he  succeeds  in 
finding  her.  Either  she,  or  the  people  in  whose  charge 
you  have  placed  her,  must  be  warned  of  this  at  once.  I 
had  all  the  details  of  your  part  in  her  rescue  from  young 
Mr.  Gilbreed  this  morning.  It  was  well  done,  but  it  must 
be  followed  up  with  this  warning,  or  it  may  have  been 
done  for  nothing." 

"  All  that  can  be  done  by  human  means  has  been  done 
already,"  Meyer  returned  gravely.  "  I  wrote  last  night  to 
the  Sister  in  charge  of  the  Home  where  we  placed  her. 
It  must  have  reached  there  this  morning.  Antoine  Dupr6 
would  count  on  our  doing  this,  yet  he  is  a  desperate  man, 
and  might  even  then  attempt  seeing  her.  If  he  does,  I 
have  written  that  he  is  to  be  given  up  to  justice.  It  is 
the  only  course  consistent  with  his  own  safety  as  well  as 
hers." 

"  You're  quite  right,  quite  right,"  Doniphan  nodded 
with  great  satisfaction,  for  he  had  been  far  from  certain 
that  Meyer,  who  had  never  shown  great  confidence  in  the 
police,  would  sanction  anything  of  this  kind.  "The 
fellow  is  an  unmitigated  rascal,  and  the  sooner  we  have 


2/2  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

him  behind  prison  bars  the  better.  If  young  Thallon  dies, 
I  shall  take  unalloyed  pleasure  in  seeing  him  hung." 

The  light  in  Meyer's  face  seemed  to  suddenly  die  out ; 
that  ineffable  sadness  which  always  seemed  to  lurk  be- 
neath the  surface  of  his  sunniest  smile  softened  the  face 
rather  than  hardened  it.  He  stood  there  looking  dreamily 
out  at  the  patch  of  blue  sky  which  showed  through  the 
small  upper  window.  Presently  he  turned  to  Doniphan 
and  said  gravely :  — 

"  Should  we  not  remember  also  that  he  is  a  man  suffer- 
ing from  deep  and  undeserved  wrong }  " 

"  And  has  made  others  suffer,  too,"  Doniphan  added  sig- 
nificantly. "  Antoine  Dupr^  has  drunk  deep  these  many 
years  ;  who's  responsible  for  that .''  " 

"  Many  besides  himself,  — but  let  that  pass  !  Hold  him 
to  strict  account,  as  this  modern  world  holds  all  its  outcasts, 
it  still  remains  that  the  malice  with  which  he  struck 
this  blow  came  to  him  first  through  his  love  for  his 
child." 

"  His  love  for  his  child  did  not  prevent  his  beating  her 
pretty  liberally  when  he  had  her  in  his  gentle  keeping," 
Doniphan  put  in  with  some  scorn. 

"  True,  he  was  and  is  brutal,"  Meyer  admitted  without 
apology;  "but  even  brutality,  when  born  of  indignation  at 
wanton  wrong,  may  be  better  than  indifference  to  it.  The 
man  was  once  honest  and  frugal,  with  the  love  of  the  home 
which  belongs  to  the  French  Canadian.  The  girl,  from 
the  first,  though  capable  of  great  affection,  perhaps  even 
because  of  it,  had  this  taint  in  her,  and  he  knew  it.  If  he 
knew  no  way  to  correct  it  but  the  way  he  took,  whose  fault 
was  it.?" 

Meyer  had  again  fixed  his  eyes  upon  his  companion,  but 
the  light  in  them  had  changed  to  a  deep  red  flame  that 
glowed  in  their  depths  as  if  it  might  consume  him.  Still 
he  went  on  speaking  in  the  same  level  voice,  answering  his 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT  273 

own  question,  as  Doniphan,  most  unusually  for  him,  seemed 
to  have  no  answer  ready. 

"  Ours,  Mr.  Doniphan !  Ours  !  We  should  have  been 
here  earlier,  we  should  have  worked  harder ;  we  might  have 
prevented  where  we  must  now  correct.  We  have  lost  that 
first  opportunity,  here  in  our  very  midst,  which  will  never 
come  again.  But  there  will  be  others,  sir;  there  will  be 
others ! " 

Doniphan  did  not  like  this  at  all.  If  Meyer,  after  work- 
ing as  report  said  he  had,  on  a  average  ten  hours  a  day  for 
the  greater  part  of  his  life,  chose  to  call  himself  a  miser- 
able sinner  because  he  had  not  regenerated  the  world,  that 
was  his  affair;  but  it  struck  Doniphan  as  rather  uncivil, 
and  quite  unnecessary,  to  include  him  in  the  general  con- 
fession. True,  he  had  done  almost  nothing  for  the  class 
of  which  they  had  been  speaking,  but  only  because  he  had 
concentrated  his  energies  on  a  much  more  hopeful  one. 
Doniphan's  influence  among  the  upper  grades  of  workmen 
and  skilled  mechanics  was  well  known.  He  had  probably 
saved  Henderson  County  more  money  by  nipping  incipient 
strikes  in  the  bud  than  any  other  man  inside  its  boundaries, 
—  and  he  was  rather  proud  of  the  fact. 

Sjill,  he  was  not  small  minded,  and  just  then,  least  of 
all,  was  he  inclined  to  cavil  at  trifles.  He  had  come  to  ask 
Meyer  a  favor,  —  for  he  now  regarded  the  Dupr6  affair  as 
quite  his  own  piece  of  property,  —  and  had  found  it  already 
done.  He  could  afford  to  ignore  references  to  his  own  sin- 
fulness, especially  as  it  was  merely  a  part  of  the  phraseol- 
ogy of  these  people,  harmonizing  perfectly  with  the  framed 
texts  and  the  rows  of  benches  and  the  platform. 

He  had  turned  to  go  when  he  paused  abruptly,  as  if  he 
had  forgotten  something  and  was  trying  to  think  what  it 
was.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  he  was  merely  debat- 
ing with  himself  whether  he  should  speak  to  Meyer  of  the 
side  of  this  miserable  affair  which  touched  him  most  closely. 


274  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

It  had  been  as  keenly  painful  to  Doniphan  as  it  had  been 
to  Reggie  that  a  man  of  Meyer's  class  should  have  even  a 
superficial  knowledge  of  something  which  nearly  concerned 
Margaret  Leverson's  honor,  but  for  that  very  reason  he 
was  anxious  to  ascertain  how  much  he  knew  and  give  to 
him  a  word  of  warning  as  to  the  sacredness  of  the  trust. 

"  You  have  learned  nothing  more  about  the  —  the  gentle- 
man seen  with  the  girl  ? "  he  asked,  lowering  his  voice  a  tone 
or  two,  though  their  speech  had  been  carefully  guarded 
before. 

"  No  more  than  I  already  knew,  but  more  than  I  have 
from  the  first  thought  it  safe  to  tell  Mr.  Gilbreed,"  Meyer 
returned,  answering  the  look  as  well  as  the  words.  "  I 
should  perhaps,  however,  in  justice  to  Dupre,  tell  yoti,  I 
saw  this  man  with  Louise  Dupre  the  afternoon  before  she 
went  away.  She  had  left  the  shoe  factory  at  the  East 
End  at  about  five,  and  was  coming  home  through  Shooter's 
Lane.  I  was  on  my  way  to  see  one  of  the  hands  who  had 
been  taken  ill  at  the  factory  that  afternoon  when  I  came 
upon  them.  She  must  have  been  late  getting  out ;  all  the 
other  hands  had  gone  on.  She  was  alone  there  with  him 
in  the  lane,  he  on  his  light  gray  horse ;  she  standing  close 
to  the  saddle,  both  talking  earnestly  —  so  earnestly  that 
until  I  was  almost  upon  them,  they  did  not  notice  me.  The 
girl  saw  me  first,  and  stepped  back  into  the  road,  her  face 
deep  crimson,  her  eyes  scornful  as  always,  though  she 
had  been  crying.  Her  movement  made  the  man  turn  in 
his  saddle  and  stare  at  me.  I  recognized  him  instantly 
though  he  did  not  recognize  me.  You  know  who  the  man 
was,  Mr.  Doniphan." 

Doniphan  flushed  with  annoyance,  not  only  at  the  other's 
complete  understanding  of  his  own  suspicions,  but  his  evi- 
dent power  to  make  them  certainties.  Meyer's  failure  to 
use  the  word  "gentleman"  where  he,  Doniphan,  had  used 
it,  had  not  escaped  his  observation.     It  implied  a  capacity 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT  275 

in  Meyer  for  passing  judgment  which  Doniphan  would 
have  preferred  to  keep  to  himself. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I  know,"  he  returned  with  one  of  his 
impatient  Uttle  snorts.  "This  is  a  most  delicate  matter, 
Meyer,  about  which  Mr.  Gilbreed  has  thought  it  best  to 
take  you  into  his  confidence,  —  a  matter  which  nearly  con- 
cerns the  honor  of  his  family.  As  I  too  am  in  his  confi- 
dence, we  must  together  guard  it  carefully." 

"  Mr.  Gilbreed  has  told  me  nothing  I  did  not  already 
know,"  the  Revivalist  returned  with  a  simple  directness 
which  entirely  disarmed  Doniphan's  craftiness ;  "  but  you 
are  wrong  if  you  think  I  have  learned  all  this  with  no 
thought  of  that  gracious  lady,  so  fair,  so  beautiful,  who  is 
his  wife.  Even  she  must  suffer,  as  we  all  suffer  for  sins 
not  our  own.  It  is  our  common  portion,  because  only 
through  that  are  we  knit  together  in  a  common  brother- 
hood. Her  face  came  up  before  me  that  day  in  the  lane 
as  I  had  seen  it  before,  beautiful  and  noble  because 
suffering  for  others,  though  she  has  not  as  yet  suf- 
fered for  Christ,  the  most  beautiful  suffering  of  all.  It 
came  to  me  then  that  this  sin  had  been  revealed  to  me 
even  in  its  first  sprouting  that  I  might  uproot  and  destroy  it." 

Meyer's  voice  had  changed  abruptly  with  these  last 
words  from  its  former  soft  melancholy  to  a  stronger,  more 
commanding  note.  His  long,  thin  hands  cHnched  them- 
selves tightly  until  the  nails  seemed  to  cut  into  the  flesh. 
Doniphan  made  no  response.  He  was  watching  the  other 
eagerly. 

"  I  spoke  sternly  to  him,  even  as  Christ  spoke  to  those 
who  had  defiled  the  Temple,"  the  Revivalist  went  on, 
**  and  when  he  would  have  turned,  I  seized  his  horse's 
bridle  that  he  should  listen  to  what  I  had  to  say.  His  face 
was  black  with  rage  and  he  struck  at  me  savagely  with  his 
stick,  though  without  speaking,  —  struck  me  a  glancing 
blow  on  the  shoulder.     The  horse   reared,  my  hold  was 


276  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

loosened,  and  in  an  instant  he  was  gone,  riding  madly 
down  the  lane,  —  gone  like  some  spirit  of  darkness  leav- 
ing a  stain  behind  it." 

"  And  the  girl  ?  "  Doniphan  asked. 

"  She  too  had  gone  when  I  recovered  consciousness." 

"  Then  you  were  badly  hurt,"  Doniphan  put  in  with 
quick  compunction  at  his  own  thoughtlessness.  He  had 
had  no  time  to  think  of  Meyer, 

"That  was  nothing,"  the  man  returned  hastily.  "I 
tried  to  see  the  girl  that  night,  but  she  had  only  come 
home  to  dress,  and  had  gone  out  again  directly  after  sup- 
per- I  did  not  dare  to  tell  her  father,  but  spent  the  night 
trying  to  find  her.  He  came  to  me  the  next  morning,  as  I 
had  expected,  with  the  news  of  her  flight.  The  rest  you 
know.  I  went  with  him  to  Mr.  Gilbreed's  in  hopes  that 
he  could  or  would  help  us.  Finding  that  useless,  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  go  to  the  city  the  next  day  in  quest 
of  her.  That  evening  Mr.  Thallon  came  and  asked  me  to 
accompany  Mr.  Gilbreed  on  the  same  errand,  saying  that 
Mr.  Gilbreed  had  changed  his  mind  and  that  he  was  will- 
ing to  help  me.  We  had,  as  you  know,  some  success,  but 
the  danger  that  threatens  Louise  Dupre  is  not  from  her 
father,  but  from  this  other  man.  He  must  be  dealt  with 
sternly  in  the  fear  of  God,  for  his  own  sake  as  well  as  hers. 
He  must  be  recalled  to  life,  to  the  knowledge  of  his  own 
suffering,  his  own  misery." 

"  Misery  !  He  will  never  know  a  moment's  discomfort, 
much  less  misery,  for  anything  he  has  ever  done  or  ever 
will  do,"  Doniphan  growled,  forgetful  in  his  anger  be- 
fore whom  he  spoke,  for  the  ejaculation  had  been  more 
to  himself  than  to  the  other  man. 

"  There  is  always  hope.  Judgment  is  not  ours.  His 
lot  has  been  so  much  harder  than  most  others,  so  clouded, 
so  benumbing,  so  narrow.  Some  one  must  show  him  what 
it  might  be  made.     It  is  borne  in  upon  me  I  must  see  him 


MOBRAY   DONIPHAN  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT  277 

again,"  the  Preacher  said  with  some  return  of  his  old 
enthusiasm. 

"  I  beg  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  Doniphan  put 
in  hastily.  "As  you  know,  I  have  Louise  Dupre's  wel- 
fare quite  as  much  at  heart  as  you  can  have,  but  I  am  in  a 
much  better  position  to  deal  with  this  —  this  —  chief  offen- 
der than  you  can  possibly  be.  I  want  you  to  keep  in 
communication  with  Louise  Duprd  or  her  guardians,  noth- 
ing more.  Whatever  else  you  do,  take  my  advice  and 
leave  Ashton  Leverson  alone." 

Meyer's  description  of  his  meeting  with  the  man  just 
named  had  only  intensified  the  impression  left  on  Doni- 
phan's mind  by  the  framed  texts  and  the  general  confession. 
While  blaming  Leverson  for  his  coarse  brutality  from  the 
bottom  of  his  heart,  Doniphan  had  nevertheless  a  certain 
sympathy  for  him  in  his  resentment  against  Meyer's  pecul- 
iar kind  of  interference.  When  itinerant  preachers  began 
"  holding  up  "  Brockton's  leading  citizens  by  the  bridle- 
rein  and  reproving  them  for  their  sins  "  with  the  stern- 
ness of  Christ,"  things  were  getting  decidedly  unpleasant. 

He  remembered  Lindley's  telling  him  something  about 
this  man's  making  a  "scene  "  at  the  inquest  held  over  the 
body  of  the  Raggles  child  some  months  before.  The  jury 
had  brought  in  a  verdict  of  accidental  death  by  electricity, 
blaming  nobody.  Meyer,  who  had  been  present  merely  as 
a  witness,  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  launch  the  thun- 
ders of  what  he  had  called  "  an  outraged  God  "  upon  those 
responsible  for  the  death  of  "  one  of  His  little  ones." 
Lindley  had  been  very  indignant  at  the  time,  but  since 
had  shown  some  contrition  for  the  sharpness  with  which 
he  had  closed  the  man's  mouth.  "After  all,"  he  had 
observed  to  Doniphan,  "  what  he  said  was  horribly  true, 
though  as  the  sworn  public  officer  in  charge  I  had  to  sit 
down  on  him." 

Until  this  present  interview  with   him  that   had   been 


278  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

Doniphan's  only  knowledge  of  a  "  sterner  side  "  to  Meyer; 
the  man  in  his  usual  aspect  seemed  the  personification 
of  meekness.  Doniphan,  like  Lindley,  preferred  him  that 
way.  It  seemed  more  appropriate  to  his  position.  To 
Leverson,  of  course,  such  an  interference  could  have  ap- 
peared merely  as  an  insolence  deserving  no  answer,  and 
getting  none,  save  the  answer  of  a  blow  from  a  heavy  rid- 
ing crop.  Meyer  probably  carried  the  marks  of  it  still  on 
that  delicately  modelled  shoulder  of  his  underneath  the 
workman's  cotton  shirt.  It  was  quite  possible  for  Doni- 
phan to  experience  some  touch  of  reverence  for  a  man 
who  could  receive  such  a  blow,  and,  even  while  roused  to 
anger  over  another's  wrong,  harbor  no  personal  resent- 
ment, and  still  feel  that  the  man  was  more  or  less  of  a  fool, 
quite  incapable  of  being  intrusted  with  any  handling  of 
this  difficult  and  delicate  matter.  He  did  not  leave  the 
Preacher  until  he  had  extracted  a  promise  from  him  that 
he  would  not  attempt  to  see  Leverson  without  his,  Doni- 
phan's, knowledge. 

"  I  was  not  thinking  wholly  of  Louise  Dupre,"  Meyer  said, 
as  they  walked  slowly  toward  the  door ;  "  the  rich  have 
souls  to  save  as  well  as  the  poor.  God's  mercy  is  ever- 
lasting, but  it  cannot  be  given  to  those  who  will  not  take 
it.     If  this  man  could  but  be  convinced  of  sin  —  " 

The  Revivalist's  face  was  still  flushed,  but  it  was  no 
longer  the  outward  sign  of  a  deep-stirred  anger,  but  of  a 
passionate  enthusiasm.  The  eyes  he  had  fixed  on  Doni- 
phan's face  as  he  spoke  were  wistful  and  pleading,  but 
Doniphan  stuck  firmly  to  his  point. 

"  My  dear  man,"  he  remarked  grimly,  "  if  you  talk  to 
Ashton  Leverson  in  that  way,  you  will  simply  make  him 
add  the  sin  of  —  of  more  personal  violence  to  the  other 
things  he  is  responsible  for.  Be  satisfied  with  the  good 
you  are  doubtless  doing  here.  These  people  are  accus- 
tomed to  reproof  and  censure.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Egan  see  no 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF   HIS  ELEMENT  279 

objection  to  having  their  domestic  infidehties  made  the 
subject  of  private  remonstrance  or  public  prayer,  but  when 
you  are  dealing  with  a  man  of  Leverson's  class  —  " 

"  And  is  his  class  then  beyond  the  need  of  prayer  ? 
Come,  Mr.  Doniphan,  I  know  you  better  than  you  think. 
This  world  is  not  governed  by  fixed  laws ;  if  it  were,  you 
would  not  be  here  asking  my  help  to-day." 

Doniphan  glanced  at  the  man  with  renewed  interest. 
He  never  forced  his  piety,  but  it  was  there.  Nevertheless, 
he  had  not  expected  Meyer  to  quote  from  Huxley's  letter 
to  Charles  Kingsley  in  support  of  it. 

"  You  have  good  authority,"  he  said,  smiling,  "  but  what- 
ever may  be  said  of  the  efficiency  of  prayer,  I  still  think 
you  had  better  leave  Leverson  to  some  one  who  knows  him. 
I  promise  you  his  moral  welfare  shall  not  be  neglected  in- 
asmuch as  it  touches  others  very  dear  to  me,  but  I  tell  you 
frankly  I'm  sorry  you  know  anything  about  it.  Guard  it 
carefully  for  my  sake  and  that  of  the  '  gracious  lady,'  and 
let  us  give  a  thought  or  two  to  matters  nearer  your  own 
people.  Dr.  Lindley  tells  me  you've  got  a  church-building 
fund.     I  want  to  send  you  a  small  check  for  it,  if  I  may." 

Instead  of  looking  grateful  at  this  offer,  Meyer  merely 
looked  embarrassed.  He  raised  his  long,  thin  hands  with 
a  movement  of  apology  that  suggested  Hebrew  blood. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said  sadly,  "  but  the  fund  is  all 
gone.  I  had  to  use  it  to  help  Madame  Dupr6  and  the 
children.  I  give  very  little  money  as  a  rule,  but  the  case 
there  was  desperate.  With  both  of  the  breadwinners  gone, 
there  was  no  choice.  I  made  Louise  promise  to  send 
some  of  her  earnings  through  me,  but  they  will  be  very 
scanty,  much  less  than  she  was  earning  here,  and  the  family 
will  have  to  be  helped  for  some  time." 

Doniphan  ground  his  teeth  when  he  had  absorbed  this 
terse  statement  of  the  material  condition  of  things.  It  had 
not  occurred  to  him  before. 


280  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"Well,  take  the  check  when  it  comes  for  them,"  he  re- 
turned with  some  attempt  at  cheerfulness,  "  and  later  we'll 
hope  for  another  building  fund.  You  need  it  badly,"  he 
added,  glancing  with  some  misgivings  down  the  long  room, 
"  but  God  knows  you  may  be  doing  more  here  than  if  you 
were  running  a  first-class  cathedral." 

Meyer's  face  lit  up  more,  perhaps,  at  these  last  words  of 
praise  than  for  the  promised  gift.  "  God  does  know,"  he 
said  with  the  intense  earnestness  peculiar  to  him.  "  The 
Kingdom  will  come  when  we  are  ready  for  it.  That  is  our 
work.  I  accept  your  aid  very  gratefully,  Mr.  Doniphan. 
It  is  very  sadly  needed.  I  trust  you  will  find  Mr.  Thallon 
better.     Good  day,  sir,  good  day." 

Doniphan  got  down  to  the  street  with  an  odd  sensation 
of  having  taken  part  in  some  religious  exercise,  something 
he  had  not  been  guilty  of  for  nearly  thirty  years.  He  had 
been  startled,  in  spite  of  his  own  cool,  clear  head,  by  the 
depth  and  power  of  the  man  he  had  just  left ;  by  what  the 
man  himself  would  have  called  "a  living  faith." 

We  are  all  alike,  learned  or  unlearned,  he  thought.  The 
Personal  note  has  got  to  be  struck.  We  must  incarnate 
our  Ideal  that  it  may  rule  us,  that  we  may  fall  down  and 
worship  it,  or  we  grow  cold.  We  tear  ourselves  to  pieces 
for  the  sake  of  love  —  the  love  of  a  tangible,  personal 
Presence  we  can  hear  and  feel  and  see,  and  we  call  it 
Religion,  —  and  it  is.  Not  the  highest !  Not  a  simple 
recognition  of  the  Universal  Spirit,  untouchable  by  human 
hands,  unseeable  by  human  eyes,  —  yet  in  all  things,  over 
all  things !  No,  not  that,  but  to  the  groping  human  mind, 
to  the  hungry  human  heart,  more  real  than  that,  —  as  yet. 

Doniphan  was  quite  unconscious  that  he  had  repeated  a 
creed.  He  was  merely  recognizing,  with  all  his  inherent 
honesty,  the  enormous  difference  between  his  own  in- 
spiration and  that  of  the  other  man. 

Johann  Meyer  had  grasped  what  to  him  was  absolute, 


MOBRAY  DONIPHAN  OUT  OF  HIS  ELEMENT  28 1 

abstract  Truth  —  the  certainty  of  a  glorious  ending,  the 
fulfilment  of  a  glorious  promise ;  to  the  other  all  things 
were  relative. 

To  him  the  subtile  meaning  of  life  lay  in  the  doing  of 
the  best  work  possible,  in  making  it  reach  as  far  as  possi- 
ble. The  Ideal  of  the  other  was  a  perfect  service,  infinite 
in  results  because  it  was  the  service  of  God. 

Loyalty  in  the  one  was  loyalty  to  something  he  had 
found  within  his  own  soul  and  had  tested  in  the  crucible 
of  his  own  brain,  —  loyalty  to  a  principle  he  would  have 
called  it ;  the  other's  was  the  enraptured,  devotional  loyalty 
of  a  servant  to  a  beloved  Master. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHITELAW   SEARCHES   A   TITLE 

When  Randal  Whitelaw  descended  the  hospital  stairs 
in  company  with  Reggie  Gilbreed  that  Sunday  night,  he 
seemed  in  more  than  his  usual  spirits,  or  at  least  more  than 
usually  talkative. 

Reggie,  who  was  in  anything  rather  than  good  spirits, 
and  exceedingly  anxious  to  get  to  bed,  excused  himself  and 
departed  when  he  found  the  lawyer  bent  on  a  parting  chat 
with  the  hospital  Superintendent  in  whom  he  appeared  to 
have  conceived  an  absorbing  interest.  This  official,  a  dried- 
up  little  man  in  a  gray  suit  and  faded  pink  necktie  which 
gave  him  something  the  appearance  of  a  pressed  flower, 
having  vacated  his  upstairs  office  for  the  convenience  of 
the  late  visitors,  had  taken  up  temporary  quarters  in  the 
waiting  room  downstairs. 

"You've  really  managed  this  case  remarkably  well, 
Stephenson,"  Whitelaw  remarked,  leaning  one  shoulder 
comfortably  against  the  jamb  of  the  waiting-room  door, 
while  he  fixed  his  dark  eyes  on  the  man  addressed  with 
that  curious  concentration  often  used  by  Whitelaw  to  con- 
vey an  impression  of  deep  personal  concern.  "  Your 
patient's  condition  must  be  greatly  improved,  at  least  out- 
wardly, since  you  first  laid  eyes  on  him,  if  one's  to  judge 
from  the  pile  of  torn  and  bedraggled  garments  I  saw  being 
carried  downstairs." 

"  Quite  right,  sir,  quite  right,"  nodded  the  grateful 
Stephenson,  pushing  forward  a  chair.     "  It's  long  since 

282 


WHITELAW  SEARCHES  A  TITLE  283 

we  had  a  case  like  this,  Mr.  Whitelaw.  Between  strikes 
assaults  is  rare  in  Brockton,  thank  God !  " 

"  And  this  seems  so  utterly  lacking  in  motive,"  the  law- 
yer went  on  thoughtfully,  declining  the  proffered  chair 
with  a  sUght  motion  of  the  head.  "  Now  to  begin  with, 
it  wasn't  robbery." 

"That's  just  exactly  what  I  said  myself,  sir,"  put  in  the 
delighted  Superintendent.  "  It  couldn't  have  been  robbery, 
for  there  was  his  watch  and  money  and  his  keys  all  found 
in  his  pockets.  I  was  just  looking  them  over  so  as  to  make 
out  a  list.      We  have  to  be  particular  about  that,  of  course." 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  speaking  of  keys,"  Whitelaw  observed, 
"reminds  me  that  he  must  have  had  the  Leverson  office 
keys  somewhere.  If  they  were  on  his  person  when  he 
was  hurt,  it  won't  do  to  leave  them  here.  They'll  be  wanted 
to-morrow  morning.     You  might  look  and  see." 

Stephenson  shuffled  over  to  a  big  roll-top  desk  which  stood 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  room  under  its  single  gas-jet. 

"  I  was  just  looking  the  things  over,"  he  remarked  ab- 
sently. "  I  don't  remember  about  the  keys  ;  that  is  about 
their  being  marked.  Would  you  know  Mr.  Leverson's 
from  the  others  ? " 

"^Well,  not  all  of  them  perhaps." 

Stephenson  looked  up  with  a  slight  start  from  the  desk 
chair  in  which  he  had  seated  himself.  The  lawyer's  voice 
came  directly  over  his  shoulder.  The  Superintendent  had 
been  quite  unaware  that  Whitelaw  had  followed  him  and 
was  leaning  over  the  back  of  the  chair  in  his  anxiety  to 
answer  his  question. 

"  You  see  there  are  two  bunches,"  the  Faded  Flower  re- 
marked as  it  handed  them  over. 

"  Just  so,"  Whitelaw  nodded,  "  I  know  these  are  Mr. 
Leverson's.  That's  the  key  of  his  office  desk.  You  see, 
as  his  confidential  clerk,  Thallon  had  to  have  access  to 
things  of  that  kind,  but  as  to  these  others  I'm  rather  at 


284  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

sea.  There's  no  telling  what  the  boy's  got  here,  though 
I  think  I  recognize  this  and  this.  No,  I  shall  have  to 
take  them  all  in  order  to  make  sure.  I  can  return  any 
that  don't  belong  to  Mr.  Leverson  in  the  morning." 

"  Strictly  speaking,  we're  responsible,  you  know,  Mr. 
Whitelaw,"  Stephenson  put  in  doubtfully. 

"Not  for  Mr.  Leverson's  property,"  Whitelaw  said,  smil- 
ing, as  he  dropped  the  keys  into  his  trousers  pocket,  "  nor 
as  far  as  that  goes  altogether  for  Mr.  Thallon's  either. 
Poor  boy,  he's  left  precious  little  property  to  fight  over, 
though  I've  been  trying  to  communicate  with  his  relatives 
and  have  taken  charge  of  his  letters  at  Colonel  Gilbreed's 
request.  I've  explained  all  this  to  Mr.  Doniphan  and  he 
quite  understands." 

"  Then  you  reckon  he's  dying  ?  "  the  little  man  asked 
anxiously,  the  use  of  Doniphan's  name  entirely  setting  at 
rest  that  other  anxiety  indicated  by  his  previous  remark. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  say  that,"  the  lawyer  returned  with  pro- 
fessional caution,  "  but  I  do  think  he's  going  under  within 
a  week  or  two.  I'm  afraid  even  your  magnificent  man- 
agement can  hardly  prevent  that.  Well,  well !  life's  not 
so  precious  comfortable  we  need  cling  to  it  very  tenaciously. 
It's  only  a  question  of  a  few  years  more  or  less  in  a  rather 
tough  world,  Stephenson,  —  in  a  very  tough  world." 

The  Faded  Flower  sighed  a  very  deep  sigh  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  this  beautiful  sentiment  as  it  saw  Mr.  White- 
law  to  the  door.  Stephenson  had  known  the  lawyer  by 
sight  these  five  and  twenty  years,  but  never  until  to-night 
had  he  given  him  the  benefit  of  his  views  on  life  and 
death.  In  fact,  if  he  had  cudgelled  his  brains  he  could 
hardly  have  recalled  any  other  occasion  when  Mr.  White- 
law  had  taken  the  slightest  notice  of  him. 

Whitelaw,  for  his  part,  as  he  strode  out  into  the  dark- 
ness, had  already  dismissed  Mr.  Stephenson,  together  with 
all  other  faded  flowers,  completely  from  his  memory.     His 


WHITELAW  SEARCHES  A  TITLE  285 

mind  was,  of  necessity,  much  occupied  at  the  moment 
with  several  matters  of  business  which  might  have  been 
described  as  urgent. 

It  was  now  getting  on  toward  midnight  Sunday.  Tues- 
day morning  at  ten  the  fate  of  the  Leverson-Higgins 
Deal  was  to  be  decided,  and  he,  Whitelaw,  had  considerable 
information  still  to  gather  inside  that  thirty-four  hours,  be- 
fore he  should  feel  himself  quite  competent  to  act  as  the 
legal  adviser  of  the  Leverson  Car  Company  at  that  criti- 
cal juncture.  His  devotion  to  the  interests  of  that  cor- 
poration was  not  diminished  by  its  intimate  connections 
with  his  own  personal  fortunes ;  the  two  were  so  entangled 
that  he  could  not,  had  he  tried,  have  given  them  any  sep- 
arate consideration,  and  it  was  certainly  pleasant  to  feel 
that  if  he  finally  found  it  safe  to  let  that  gigantic  combina- 
tion go  through,  he  stood  to  win  fifty  thousand  dollars  as  a 
stockholder. 

But  fortune  building  was  very  far  from  being  the  only 
element,  or  even  the  dominant  one,  that  entered  into  the 
delicate  problem  which  had  been  confronting  Randal 
Whitelaw  for  some  time  past.  Had  it  been  a  mere  matter 
of  money,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  quite  so  easily  have 
made  up  his  mind  to  do  certain  things  which,  as  he  strode 
on  toward  the  Everett  House  that  hot  July  night,  had 
nearly  taken  the  form  of  disagreeable  necessities. 

He  had  earned  the  reputation  of  being  a  shrewd  cor- 
poration lawyer  in  a  locality  where  that  designation  means 
a  good  deal,  but  he  nevertheless  had  a  code  of  ethics 
which,  without  reaching  to  very  dizzy  heights,  had  hitherto 
restricted  his  actions  within  certain  clearly  defined  Umits. 
If  at  that  moment  he  had  with  some  regret  decided  on 
going  some  distance  beyond  them,  his  motive  was  not 
altogether  mercenary. 

The  inexpressible  joy  of  pulling  wires,  the  farther  ends 
of  which  are  attached  to  people  of  wide  social  or  political 


286  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

influence,  can  hardly  ever  be  appreciated  by  any  one  who 
has  not  taken  part  in  that  delightful  pastime.  Such  in- 
nocent pleasure  had  kept  Mortimer  Gilbreed  in  politics 
through  some  very  "  lean  years,"  when  he  had  frankly 
assured  Whitelaw  he  had  "actually  lost  money  by  it." 
But  to  this  other  brilliant  professional  man  who  at  five  and 
forty  stood  on  the  brink  of  a  great  reputation,  financial 
and  social  considerations  counted  for  much  less  than  a 
deep  personal  interest  which  had  some  love  and  some  hate 
in  it. 

The  night's  work  he  had  laid  out  for  himself  was,  in 
more  than  one  sense,  repulsive  to  him,  —  not  at  all  the  kind 
of  work  suitable  for  a  gentleman ;  but  such  things  have  got 
to  be  done  occasionally,  and  it  is  rarely  possible  or  safe  to 
hire  some  one  else  to  do  them. 

Randal  Whitelaw's  appearance  in  the  lobby  or  corridors 
of  the  Everett  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night  was  not  in 
the  least  likely  to  attract  attention.  Though  he  roomed 
elsewhere,  he  took  most  of  his  meals  at  the  hotel,  and  held 
intimate  business  and  social  relations  with  several  of  its 
permanent  boarders.  Since  Thallon's  installation  as  Lever- 
son's  confidential  clerk,  he  had  frequently  been  closeted 
with  him  in  his  room  until  long  past  midnight,  going  over 
books  and  papers  connected  with  Leverson's  personal 
affairs  and  those  of  the  corporation. 

As  he  entered  the  cheerless,  sparsely  furnished  ofHce 
or  waiting  room  he  found  no  one  stirring,  for  the  drowsy 
night  clerk  behind  the  desk  and  the  two  bell-boys,  slum- 
bering in  cane-seated  chairs  on  either  side  of  the  wide-open 
front  door,  had  their  alarm  machinery  set  for  the  twelve- 
thirty  down  train.  Whitelaw  nodded  pleasantly  to  Graham 
as  he  walked  across  the  oilcloth-covered  floor,  and  when 
he  began  to  ascend  the  stairs  he  did  so  leisurely,  all  his 
movements  without  any  suggestion  of  haste. 

Once  around   the  first  turn,  however,  he  moved  more 


WHITELAW   SEARCHES  A  TITLE  287 

rapidly,  going  up  the  other  three  flights  to  the  top  floor 
in  less  time  than  he  had  given  to  the  first.  Turning  down 
a  corridor  dimly  lighted  by  a  single  gas-jet  at  the  farther 
end,  he  paused  without  the  slightest  hesitation  before  room 
No.  102,  drew  out  both  bunches  of  Thallon's  keys,  opened 
the  door  with  one  of  them,  and  went  in. 

He  came  out  again  three  quarters  of  an  hour  later  look- 
ing rather  worn  and  tired.  The  hotel  bus  had  just  arrived 
from  the  station  as  he  made  his  way  through  the  lobby,  and 
the  Everett  was  wide  awake  again.  However,  the  Everett 
was  not  especially  interested  in  Whitelaw's  mental  condi- 
tion. 

When  he  got  to  his  own  rooms  three  squares  away  and 
had  turned  on  the  electric  light,  he  threw  himself  into  his 
reading  chair  and  drew  a  long  breath.  A  decanter  of  very 
good  sherry  stood  on  the  table  beside  him,  and  he  poured 
himself  out  a  glass  and  drank  it  at  a  draught ;  even  his  iron 
nerves  had  been  just  a  trifle  shaken.  He  only  realized  that 
now  after  it  was  all  over. 

But  was  it  as  yet  quite  over }  One  thing,  perhaps  the 
most  disquieting  of  all,  remained  as  a  disagreeable  possi- 
bility. It  came  up  before  him  very  prominently  as  he 
spread  the  contents  of  his  breast  pocket  out  on  the  table. 
There  was  a  blue  envelope  marked  with  Leverson's  name, 
two  Thallon  packages,  and  the  mail  matter  collected  earlier 
in  the  evening,  addressed  to  the  same  person,  amongst 
which  a  yellow  envelope  was  very  noticeable. 

It  was  the  only  sealed  envelope  with  the  contents  of 
which  it  might  be  necessary  for  him  to  make  himself 
familiar.  If  it  could  possibly  be  avoided,  he  did  not  intend 
to  break  that  seal.  All  the  rest  of  it  had  been  exceedingly 
unpleasant,  but  it  would  be  still  more  unpleasant  to  do 
something  which  the  law  called  a  felony.  Of  course, 
opening  other  people's  valises  was  also,  strictly  speaking, 
a  felony,  but  that  action  had  been  so  amply  justified  that, 


288  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

t 
if  it  ever  came  to  the  light  of  day,  Whitelaw  could  conceive 

of  no  difficulty  in  explaining  it  to  the  most  conscientious  of 
district  attorneys,  who  in  this  instance  happened  to  be  his 
personal  friend.  He  had  been  engaged  in  recovering  cer- 
tain personal  property  belonging  to  an  important  client, 
and  while  doing  so  had  stumbled  accidentally  on  the 
evidences  of  a  conspiracy  which  had  for  its  object  that 
client's  irretrievable  ruin.  Without  being  a  criminal  law- 
yer, Whitelaw  had  quite  enough  knowledge  of  criminal 
procedure  to  know  that  simple  Httle  matters  of  that  kind 
could  never  by  any  possibility  get  as  far  as  a  grand  jury. 

But  when  it  came  to  this  other  thing,  the  case  was  different. 
If  possible,  it  was  to  be  avoided;  in  any  case  it  was  to  be 
put  off  as  long  as  possible. 

The  intense  heat  and  stuffiness  of  the  room,  in  spite  of 
the  wide-open  windows,  was  nearly  overpowering.  Sud- 
denly it  occurred  to  him  that  he  wanted  some  black  coffee 
and  a  cigar.  He  often  went  without  tobacco  for  a  week  at 
a  time,  but  he  was  a  drunkard  in  that  insidious  black  stuff, 
which  makes  the  brain  work  like  a  piece  of  machinery  until 
it  breaks  down. 

He  struck  a  match  and  lighted  a  spirit  lamp  under  a  small 
brass  kettle  standing  on  the  table  beside  him.  There  was 
a  good  deal  of  luxurious  comfort  about  Whitelaw's  bachelor 
apartments.  This  little  sitting  room  connecting  with  the 
bedroom  beyond  had  many  of  the  appointments  belonging 
to  the  grill  room  of  a  high-class  social  club. 

He  never  once  glanced  at  the  papers  on  the  table  until 
he  had  brewed  his  coffee  and  lighted  his  cigar,  but  when 
he  once  got  to  work,  he  worked  as  only  Randal  Whitelaw 
could  when  under  pressure,  —  like  a  relentless  machine  en- 
dowed with  some  diabolic  intelligence  more,  and  also  less, 
than  human.  The  gray  hght  crept  in  at  the  windows,  and 
still  the  machine  devoured  the  material  piled  before  it  in 
those  two  packages,  stopping  every  little  while  to  take 


WHITELAW  SEARCHES  A  TITLE  289 

copious  notes,  sometimes  even  making  verbatim  copies 
of  those  letters  it  regarded  as  sufficiently  important.  He 
must  have  consumed  at  least  a  pint  of  coffee  before  he 
finished  the  last  letter  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

No,  not  the  last !  The  yellow  envelope  still  lay  unopened 
on  the  table,  but  its  fate  was  no  longer  in  doubt.  It  was 
the  last  of  a  long  series  covering  a  period  of  several  years, 
and  was  in  all  probability  more  important  than  all  the  others 
put  together.  It  marked  a  period  in  a  long  and  difficult 
search,  a  very  critical  period,  and  was  likely  to  contain  the 
final  answer  to  the  ceaseless  question  which  had  been 
haunting  Randal  Whitelaw  these  last  three  months. 

As  he  held  the  gummed  edge  of  the  envelope  in  the  thin 
column  of  steam,  he  experienced  nothing  more  complicated 
than  a  certain  inward  satisfaction  that  the  days  of  sealing- 
wax  were  over ;  he  was  long  past  caring  for  anything  but 
immediate  results.  The  desire  for  the  possession  of  this 
man's  secret  was  at  the  moment  the  only  desire  of  his  soul. 

He  did  nothing  to  hasten  the  process.  There  was  no 
impatient  pulling  at  the  gummed  edge  to  see  if  it  were 
loose ;  the  action  of  the  steam  was  gentle  but  very  sure. 

No  one  watching  the  sharply  cut  regular  features,  as  he 
preseptly  finished  his  work,  would  have  said  that  the  brain 
back  of  them  had  been  engaged  in  the  commonplace  drudg- 
ery of  searching  a  title,  even  if  it  was  a  title  to  three  million 
dollars'  worth  of  stock.  As  he  filed  away  his  papers  in 
exactly  the  same  order  in  which  he  had  found  them,  he 
knew  it  was  worth  a  great  deal  more  to  him  than  even 
that. 

He  got  up  from  the  table,  setting  down  his  empty  cup 
with  a  hand  not  quite  steady.  The  pupils  of  his  eyes  were 
as  unnaturally  dilated  as  if  he  had  been  taking  belladonna, 
his  brain  phenomenally  active,  even  while  it  ached  painfully; 
he  was  as  much  under  the  influence  of  a  stimulant  as  if  he 
had  drunk  the  same  quantity  of  brandy. 


290  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

As  it  had  increased  his  mental  acuteness  it  had  seemed  to 
dull  proportionately  that  moral  or  ethical  sense  which  had 
been  strong  in  him  during  the  night.  He  did  not  now 
care  a  rap  for  what  he  had  done  except  as  it  counted  in 
the  game.  If  he  had  no  intention  of  doing  the  same  kind 
of  thing  again,  it  was  largely  because  it  was  no  longer 
necessary.  Even  the  element  of  risk  in  it  had  become 
less  noticeable. 

There  was  no  use  going  to  bed ;  it  had  been  broad  day- 
light for  three  hours,  when,  after  taking  his  plunge  in 
cold  water  and  redressing,  he  sauntered  around  to  the 
Everett  for  breakfast.  On  his  way  in  he  stopped  at  the 
desk  where  Fulmer,  the  proprietor,  was  now  officiating. 

"  I  say,  Fulmer,"  he  remarked,  as  he  leaned  over  the 
broad  counter  that  held  the  hotel  register,  "  you  sent  up 
a  lot  of  mail  matter  to  the  office  yesterday  afternoon,  and 
some  of  it  was  addressed  to  that  poor  young  fellow  who 
was  hurt  so  badly  at  the  Junction.  I  am  afraid  he  will 
never  call  for  it  himself ;  but  you  better  keep  it  on  the 
chance.  Here  it  is,  —  six  letters,  two  papers,  and  a  postal 
card.     That's  all  you  sent,  wasn't  it  .■* " 

Fulmer  was  quite  sure,  so  sure  that  he  wasted  no  time 
discussing  it.     He  was  much  too  full  of  the  late  outrage. 

"Yes,  you're  right,  quite  right;  it  was  abominable," 
Whitelaw  acquiesced  with  a  touch  of  his  most  engaging 
humor.  "  Even  you  and  I,  Fulmer,  can  see  that,  and  you're 
a  publican  and  I'm  a  sinner." 

Whitelaw  had  an  appointment  at  his  law  office  with 
Leverson  at  ten-thirty,  but  he  did  not  hurry  his  breakfast 
on  that  account,  nor  did  he  even  turn  his  steps  in  that 
direction  when  he  left  the  hotel  at  a  quarter  past  nine. 
On  the  contrary,  he  made  the  best  of  his  leisurely  way  to 
the  Brockton  General  Hospital,  where  he  found  Stephen- 
son, and  handed  over  such  of  Thallon's  keys  as  he  had  no 
further  use  for. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A   MAN   AND    A   PRIEST 

St.  Stephen's  Church  stood  within  a  stone's  throw  of 
Brockton's  business  centre.  A  narrow  street  climbed  from 
the  main  thoroughfare  up  a  sharp  ascent,  until  it  came 
abruptly  on  the  gray  stone  tower  with  its  white-faced  clock, 
barring  its  further  progress,  —  there  it  diverged  to  right 
and  left,  satisfied  to  get  around  an  impediment  it  could 
not  overcome,  —  typical  both  of  Brockton's  religion  and 
Brockton's  business  enterprise. 

The  Church  building  itself  only  dated  from  1840,  though 
its  weather-stained  granite  and  clustering  ivy  made  it  appear 
much  older,  but  the  parish  was  one  of  the  oldest  in  south- 
ern Pennsylvania,  having  been  organized  as  far  back  as 
1767  by  some  immigrant  Virginians. 

Small  shops  and  small  brick  residences  of  the  poorer 
sort  clustered  below  the  steeply  terraced  churchyard,  the 
roadway  having  been  graded  to  a  lower  level  long  after 
the  Church  was  built.  An  irregular  row  of  ancient 
horse-chestnut  trees  shaded  the  quiet  enclosure  that  occu- 
pied nearly  half  a  square  on  either  side  of  the  Church, 
while  below  their  spreading  branches  the  still  more  an- 
cient tombstones,  streaked  with  white  mould  and  covered 
with  moss  and  lichen,  were  peacefully  crumbling  into  dust, 
as  the  memory  of  the  names  upon  them  had  crumbled  long 
since. 

The  Church  grounds  extended  back  to  a  quiet  residence 
street  in  the  rear  whereon  stood  the  Rectory,  also  of  gray 

291 


292  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

Stone,  a  very  picturesque  old  house,  and,  as  Mrs.  Faucon 
always  added,  very  damp  and  dismal. 

Mobray  Doniphan  tied  his  horse  to  a  granite  post  in 
the  street  below  and  walked  through  the  churchyard 
rather  than  drive  round.  He  was  not  looking  forward 
with  bliss  to  his  coming  interview,  but  there  was  no  help 
for  it. 

Some  pressure  had  got  to  be  brought  to  bear  on  Lever- 
son  to  make  him  behave  himself.  Some  one  of  Margaret 
Gilbreed's  family  with  some  vestige  of  backbone  had  got 
to  be  told  what  the  situation  was,  and  there  was  no  use  in 
appealing  to  the  Colonel. 

It  struck  Doniphan  that  it  was  rather  mean  in  him  to 
ask  the  assistance  of  the  Church,  and  Faucon  would  prob- 
ably remind  him  of  it,  but  he  was  not  asking  it  for  himself, 
but  for  Margaret.  His  feeling  for  Cuthbert  Faucon  was 
an  odd  mixture  of  respect  and  pity.  The  man  was  intrin- 
sically so  strong,  yet  so  hopelessly  entangled  in  tradition. 

"I  don't  wonder  he's  half  fossilized,"  Doniphan  grunted 
to  himself  as  he  traversed  the  narrow  pebbly  path,  green 
with  moss  and  infringed  upon  with  grass  and  weeds. 
"  When  one  thinks  that  his  father  and  grandfather  held 
this  place  before  him,  one  only  wonders  he  wasn't  born  in 
a  cassock.  They  get  their  Churchmanship  in  their  blood, 
drink  in  glorias  in  excelsis  with  their  first  nourishment ; 
and  yet  there  was  a  time  when  the  mighty  swing  of  modern 
thought  nearly  carried  this  one  off  his  feet.  Poor  old 
Cuthbert !  " 

He  paused  in  his  walk  to  brush  away  one  or  two  last 
year's  withered  leaves  from  a  neglected  grave,  but  the 
physical  action  did  not  seem  to  interrupt  his  train  of 
thought.  "  And  to  think,"  he  went  on,  resuming  his 
leisurely  walk,  "that  my  father  was  his  father's  Senior 
Warden.  Well !  well !  Abby  keeps  up  the  family  tradi- 
tions.    I   exchanged  mine  long  ago  for  the  light  and  air 


A  MAN  AND  A   PRIEST  293 

of  the  Hill  Farm.  Things  might  have  been  easier  if  I 
hadn't,  but  it's  better  as  it  is,  much  better." 

He  found  his  sister  in  the  Rectory  drawing-room  any- 
thing but  intent  on  keeping  up  the  family  traditions. 
Perhaps  she  felt  she  had  done  that  sufficiently  in  marrying 
Faucon.  She  was  reading  one  of  the  elder  Dumas'  admi- 
rable romances,  refreshing  herself  between  chapters  on 
Huyler's  eighty -cent  candy,  but  she  got  up  ungrudgingly 
when  her  brother  entered  the  room  and  gave  him  a  most 
affectionate  greeting,  even  offering  him  some  of  the  candy. 

Without  having  anything  in  common  with  this  very 
much  younger  sister,  Mobray  was,  in  a  certain  restricted 
sense,  very  fond  of  her,  especially  when  he  did  not  see 
her  too  often.  He  was  conscious  that  she  talked  a 
great  deal  without  saying  anything  well  worth  hearing, 
but  on  the  other  hand,  her  loquacity  had  a  usefulness 
quite  its  own.  There  were  times  when  it  might  have  been 
likened  to  oil  poured  on  troubled  waters.  Though  fre- 
quently plaintive,  no  one  had  ever  heard  Abby  Faucon 
spiteful,  as  women  with  rapid  tongues  and  no  mental 
training  to  speak  of  are  so  apt  to  be.  On  the  contrary, 
she  disarmed  all  criticism,  all  rancor.  In  a  negative  sense, 
at  least,  she  was  an  ideal  parson's  wife. 

After  she  had  kissed  Doniphan  with  an  enthusiasm  only 
dampened  by  his  refusal  of  the  candy,  she  asked  after  the 
young  man  at  the  hospital.  Like  every  one  else  she  took 
it  for  granted  he  would  know.  He  told  her  all  he  had  to 
tell,  and  then,  with  great  tact,  brought  in  the  name  of 
Cuthbert  in  a  light,  easy,  off-hand  manner,  implying  noth- 
ing more  serious  in  view  than  the  discussion  of  a  chess 
problem.  Abby's  presence  at  his  coming  interview  would 
have  made  it  worse  than  useless. 

He  was  greatly  aided  in  his  deep  designs  by  his  sister's 
being  at  the  moment  in  a  state  of  breathless  suspense  over 
the  fate  of  three  intrepid  musketeers,  one  of  whom  she 


294  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

had  left  holding  up  the  ceiling  of  a  cave,  while  the  others, 
thus  sheltered,  were  quietly  killing  their  enemies.  This 
good-natured,  plump  little  woman,  an  epitome  of  peaceful- 
ness,  enjoyed  anything  like  that  —  in  fiction.  She  told  him 
he  would  find  Cuthbert  in  his  study,  hoped  he,  Mobray, 
would  stop  to  lunch,  and  when  assured  that  he  could  not, 
relapsed  into  unconsciousness  of  all  commonplace  things. 

The  study  was  a  large,  high-ceiled  room,  occupying  the 
ground  floor  of  a  wing  which  communicated  on  one  side 
with  the  Rectory  drawing-room,  and  on  the  other  with  the 
Church  vestry.  "  Halfway  between  Dumas  pere  and  the 
glorias,"  Doniphan  put  it  to  himself  as  he  softly  closed 
the  study  door  behind  him. 

He  had  been  famihar  with  the  room  these  twenty  years, 
and  knew  every  subdued  light,  every  dusky  shadow  of  it, 
better  in  some  ways  that  he  knew  its  owner,  though  Cuth- 
bert's  influence  had  dominated  a  certain  part  of  his  own 
life. 

The  place  was  typical  of  the  man  who  had  created  it. 
It  appeared  less  spacious  than  it  really  was,  being  heavily 
ceiled  and  panelled  with  black  oak  of  a  design  which  sug- 
gested the  Gothic,  and  was  distinctly  "  Churchly,"  even  the 
elaborately  carved  heavy  furniture  carrying  out  the  same 
intention. 

Directly  over  a  wide  fireplace  a  large  wooden  cross 
occupied  the  centre  panel,  upon  it  the  figure  of  the  Christ 
beautifully  carved ;  a  consummate  work  of  art,  but  beyond 
that,  to  the  occupant  of  the  room,  unquestionably  the 
symbol  of  an  idea.  The  face,  which  was  turned,  not  up- 
ward toward  heaven,  but  downward  upon  the  world,  fairly 
spoke  with  the  comprehension  and  pity  of  the  Nazarene. 

The  Rector  was  standing  directly  under  the  cross  in 
front  of  a  small  wood  fire,  pleasant  as  mitigating  a  slight 
dampness  which  seemed  inherent  in  the  room  in  spite  of 
the   midsummer   heat   outside.     He  must   have   but   just 


A  MAN  AND  A  PRIEST  295 

come  in  from  some  early  service,  for  he  still  retained  the 
long  black  cassock  buttoned  closely  to  the  throat,  which 
made  him  look  even  taller  and  thinner  than  he  really  was, 
though  it  was  not  unbecoming  to  the  delicate  refinement 
of  the  face.  Doniphan  noticed  it,  and  how  it  accentuated 
his  "  priestliness."  He  also  noticed  the  fire,  and  wondered 
if  Cuthbert's  blood  could  by  any  possibility  stand  in  as 
much  need  of  warmth  as  his  manner.  It  was  a  small  in- 
justice, but  it  was  characteristic.  The  Rector's  manner  was 
anything  but  cold,  as  on  recognizing  his  visitor  he  closed 
the  book  he  had  been  reading  with  a  slight  exclamation  of 
pleased  surprise  which  was  in  itself  a  welcome. 

"  I'm  afraid  you  bring  bad  news  from  the  hospital,"  he 
began,  seizing  his  own  explanation  of  this  early  call  be- 
fore Doniphan  could  offer  any.  "  Take  a  seat  and  tell  me 
about  it.     There's  hope,  I  trust  ?  " 

There  was  a  perceptible  pause  before  Doniphan  an- 
swered. He  was  thinking  of  a  time  thirty  years  before, 
when  the  tie  between  himself  and  Cuthbert  Faucon  had 
been  very  close,  though  perhaps  even  then  neither  man 
had  fully  revealed  to  the  other  that  which  lay  deepest  in 
himself.  Doniphan  knew  well  that  Faucon's  intensely 
narrow  though  lofty  Churchmanship  was  the  direct  out- 
come of  the  same  struggle  that  had  carried  himself  at 
three  and  twenty  into  the  ranks  of  the  free-thinkers. 
Both  had  questioned  the  infallibility  of  a  Book,  the  one 
to  fall  back  on  the  authority  of  an  Organization,  the  other 
on  the  authority  of  a  Conscience.  The  one  had  come  out 
of  it  as  intensely  aristocratic  as  were  some  of  his  ances- 
tors who  had  rallied  around  Church  and  King  as  represen- 
tatives of  God's  Spiritual  and  Temporal  Authority ;  the  other 
as  intensely  democratic  as  any  man  could  be  who  prided 
himself  on  belonging  to  a  good  family  whose  honor  was 
just  a  little  bit  more  sacred  than  the  honor  of  other 
people. 


296  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

In  that  "time  of  great  upheaval"  the  fight  had  gone 
differently  with  them,  and  since  then  they  had  drifted 
farther  apart.  Friendship  had  survived  the  shock,  but  not 
intimacy ;  that  close  personal  note  had  gone  from  their 
intercourse  because  it  was  no  longer  a  safe  note  to  strike. 

And  now,  safe  or  not,  Doniphan  knew  it  had  got  to  be 
struck  again.  Would  it  wipe  out  what  there  was  left 
between  them }  The  element  of  a  personal  duty,  a  per- 
sonal responsibility,  was  again  to  be  forced  to  the  front, 
though  now  the  thing  concerned  others,  not  himself. 

The  Rector  was  watching  him  curiously.  He  saw  his 
difficulty,  and  set  it  down  to  feeling  for  Thallon,  an  impres- 
sion confirmed  by  Doniphan's  words. 

"  They  tell  me  there  is  very  little  hope,"  the  latter 
said,  taking  the  chair  Cuthbert  moved  toward  him.  "  I 
was  not  allowed  to  see  him,  but  Lindley  left  word  to  that 
effect." 

"  And  you  have  come  for  me  ?  That  is  kind  and  very 
thoughtful  of  you,"  the  priest  said  with  more  color  than 
usual  in  his  voice  as  well  as  in  his  face.  He  was  always 
on  the  watch  for  some  signs  of  relenting  in  Mobray.  This 
quickness  to  call  for  clerical  aid  was  a  hopeful  sign.  "  I 
can  go  as  well  as  not,"  he  went  on ;  "I  have  no  service 
until  this  afternoon." 

Mobray  Doniphan  flushed  as  he  saw  the  other's  mis- 
take. It  would  be  necessary  to  correct  it,  but  he  took  his 
time  about  doing  so,  and  chose  his  words  rather  carefully. 
He  was  very  anxious  to  avoid  all  semblance  of  irritation ; 
he  knew  he  could  irritate  Cuthbert  Faucon  very  easily. 

"  The  kindness  is  on  your  side,  not  on  mine,"  he  said, 
smiling  up  at  the  tall  figure  on  the  hearth.  "  If  Thallon 
rallies,  he'll  doubtless  be  glad  to  have  you  there ;  but  as  I 
said  just  now,  they  would  not  allow  jne  to  see  him.  He 
was  delirious  all  last  night." 

•'  I  am  deeply  pained  to  hear  it.     I  shall  keep  myself  in 


A  MAN  AND  A  PRIEST  29^ 

readiness.  Even  if  I  am  not  called  there,  I  shall  hold  it 
kind  of  you,  Mobray,  to  have  let  me  know." 

The  Rector's  tone  was  full  of  genuine  interest.  When  he 
used  his  visitor's  Christian  name,  his  manner  became  more 
than  merely  courteous.  Something  in  Cuthbert  Faucon  at 
the  moment  took  Doniphan's  memory  back  again  into  the 
vanished  past,  but  not  to  the  detriment  of  his  present  pur- 
pose ;  he  made  that  clear  at  once. 

"You  don't  understand,"  he  rejoined,  waving  aside  the 
thanks.  "  I  did  not  come  on  Thallon's  account  at  all,  but 
about  one  of  your  other  parishioners,  who,  though  in  the 
best  of  physical  health,  stands  in  more  need  of  your  minis- 
trations. Don't  misinterpret  my  bringing  up  the  subject. 
I  don't  speak  with  any  desire  to  interfere  with  your  duties, 
but  because  I  have  duties  of  my  own." 

The  interest  in  the  Rector's  face  had  deepened,  but  there 
was,  too,  a  suggestion  of  anxiety  in  it  not  there  a  moment 
since. 

"Who  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"  Leverson." 

Cuthbert  Faucon  started  perceptibly.  He  had  evidently 
been  quite  unprepared  for  the  mention  of  the  name.  He 
did  not  speak  at  once,  but  walked  over  to  one  of  the  low 
bookcases  and  carefully  replaced  his  volume  of  Sayce  on 
Vannic  Inscriptions,  which  he  had  left  till  then  face  down- 
ward on  the  table.  Doniphan,  who  had  noted  the  book, 
watched  the  Rector  grimly  as  he  came  back  to  his  former 
position  upon  the  rug.  Cuthbert,  throwing  a  look  of  well- 
bred  inquiry  across  the  table,  remarked  crisply :  — 

"  My  dear  Doniphan,  I'm  all  attention." 

Doniphan  told  his  long  story  with  careful  exactness, 
beginning  as  far  back  as  the  Higgins-Leverson  Deal,  which 
he  now  felt  at  liberty  to  speak  of  as  it  was  on  the  eve  of 
becoming  public  property,  and  then  carrying  his  auditor 
through  those  subsequent  developments  which  led  up  to 


298  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

the  matter  he  had  in  hand.  The  Colonel  and  Whitelaw, 
Thallon,  Dupr6,  Louise  Dupr6,  Meyer,  Reggie,  Leverson, 
Margaret,  —  he  put  them  all  before  Cuthbert  Faucon  as  if 
they  had  been  so  many  actors  on  a  stage,  though  without 
exaggeration  and  without  comment. 

The  expression  of  inquiry  on  Faucon's  face  had  been  suc- 
ceeded by  another  expression,  —  that  of  profound  disgust. 
He  had  taken  his  eyes  from  Doniphan  and  was  staring 
moodily  down  into  the  flickering  flame  of  the  hickory  logs. 
The  fire  was  nearly  out ;  he  stirred  it  gently  with  the  toe  of 
his  boot. 

"  I  haven't  come  here  with  any  desire  to  shirk  this  thing, 
Cuthbert,"  Doniphan  went  on  when  he  thought  the  silence 
had  lasted  long  enough.  "  If  I  believed  my  lecturing 
Ashton  Leverson  could  by  any  possibility  result  in  mak- 
ing him  decent,  I  should  lecture  him  like  a  Dutch  uncle 
instead  of  bothering  you.  But  turn  it  every  way  I  will,  I 
cannot  help  thinking  my  mixing  any  further  in  the  matter 
will  only  make  it  worse.  Yet,  if  something's  not  done  to 
change  him  very  materially,  I  shall  have  to  speak,  if  only 
to  set  myself  in  the  right.  I  know  Margaret.  She's 
already  told  him  that  I've  advised  her  to  submit  herself  to 
his  orders,  something  I  never  would  have  done,  of  course, 
had  I  been  cognizant  of  this  last  outrage.  If  I  leave  the 
thing  alone  now,  I  leave  him  under  the  impression  that  I 
quite  approve  of  him,"  Doniphan  finished  with  a  little  snort 
of  vexation. 

"  Neither  our  approval  nor  disapproval  will  change  him 
by  a  hair,"  the  Rector  returned,  his  manner  chilling.  "  To 
all  intents  and  purposes  Ashton  Leverson  is  beyond  hu- 
man compulsion.  Assuming  for  the  sake  of  argument 
that  he  is  as  guilty  as  you  think,  he  is  doing  nothing  for 
which  the  only  world  he  cares  for  will  call  him  to  account. 
If  he  had  cheated  at  cards,  that  would  have  been  a  crime. 
That  is  to  say,  it  would  have  injured  men  who  cannot  be 


A   MAN  AND   A   PRIEST  299 

injured  with  impunity.  This  other  thing  injures  primarily 
two  women  —  one  of  whom  is  too  obscure  to  make  any  out- 
cry, the  other  too  much  of  a  lady.  Provided  he  can  make 
his  wife  live  with  him,  he  will  continue  to  be  received  any- 
where, even  if  this  is  known.  If  his  wife  refuses  to  live 
with  him,  he  will  not  lack  the  kind  of  society  he  wants. 
The  man  is  utterly  lacking  in  what  you  and  I  would  call 
moral  perceptions.  What  you  call  conscience,  my  dear 
Mobray,  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  habit." 

If  Mobray  Doniphan  took  small  interest  in  this  sort 
of  discussion,  it  was  not  because  he  lacked  convictions. 
His  brows  knit  slightly  as  he  retorted  :  — 

"  For  the  matter  of  that,  so  is  religion.  He  has  got 
to  be  taught  one  as  much  as  the  other." 

"  You  should  say  he  must  be  taught  one  before  he  can 
be  taught  the  other.  Fall  back  on  the  natural  human 
conscience  as  a  guide,  and  when  as  now  you  need  it  most, 
you'll  find  it  missing." 

"  No,  no ;  dormant,  not  dead  !  Otherwise  the  case  were 
hopeless.  Can  you  suggest  any  way  in  which  Ashton 
Leverson  could  be  made  to  behave  like  a  man  and  a 
gentleman  without  awakening  some  sort  of  conscience  in 
him  ?  Can  you  suggest  any  other  agency  through  which 
he  could  be  made  even  decent }  " 

"  Yes,  fear,"  Faucon  responded  quietly.  "  The  fear 
of  God !  " 

"  My  word  is  large  enough  to  cover  all  four.  We  needn't 
split  hairs  over  terms.  Make  him  fear  anything  you 
like  as  long  as  he  does  fear  something." 

"  If  the  forces  at  your  command  and  mine  be  coequal, 
why  have  you  come  to  me  ? "  the  Rector  asked  with  a 
touch  of  malicious  humor. 

"  I  did  not  say  they  were,  only  that  they  were  of  the 
same  nature.  A  faculty  of  rousing  sleeping  consciences 
in  others  may  be  yours  rather  than  mine." 


3CX)  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Mobray,  you  are  getting  diplomatic  in  your  old  age," 
Cuthbert  put  in,  smiling.  "  I,  myself,  doubt  your  being 
here  because  you  have  any  great  respect  for  my  sagacity, 
for  you  do  not  really  think  I  am  half  as  clever  as  you 
are,  but  because  I  stand  for  something  which  still,  even 
in  these  days,  claims  and  holds  some  power.  If  I  cannot 
answer  you  to-day  with  perfect  confidence,  the  fault  is 
yours,  not  mine.  The  society  in  which  we  live  is  no 
longer  dominated  by  the  Church  —  the  church  is  tolerated 
by  Society.  It  is  the  precious  legacy  of  your  Pagan 
Reformation  which  appeals  to  the  individual  conscience 
and,  failing  in  its  appeal,  is  helpless." 

Doniphan  began  to  grow  restless.  Whatever  his  object, 
he  had  not  come  to  discuss  the  rights  and  wrongs  of 
Episcopal  authority.  Still,  he  had  come  to  ask  a  favor, 
and  he  wanted  to  be  polite.  He  glanced  at  the  carved 
figure  over  the  mantel,  wondering  how  that  One  Personi- 
fied Idea  could  be  a  moving  force  with  a  man  like  Meyer 
and  a  man  like  Cuthbert  Faucon.  If  their  reading  of  it 
were  as  different  as  the  difference  in  their  lives,  it  must 
be  a  many-sided  Idea.  He  took  a  turn  or  two  about 
the  room,  a  feeling  of  discouragement  creeping  over 
him. 

"In  other  words,"  he  remarked  abruptly,  "if  we  cannot 
treat  men  as  children,  we  cannot  treat  with  them  at  all." 

The  Rector  crossed  his  thin  white  hands  behind  his 
back ;  his  face  very  pale,  the  eyes  earnest. 

"  Men  are  children,"  he  said  slowly,  "with  the  marked 
difference  of  being  bereft  of  the  innocence  and  obedience 
of  childhood.  At  the  latter  end  of  this  much-blazoned 
nineteenth  century,  we  have  this  man,  as  you  call  him,  in 
a  way  no  more  civilized  than  the  Goths  and  Vandals  who 
swooped  down  to  plunder  a  falling  empire.  When  he 
sees  a  thing  he  wants,  he  seizes  and  holds  it,  provided 
always  he  has  the  necessary  force  at  command.     The  type 


A   MAN  AND   A   PRIEST  3OI 

is  essentially  heathen ;  it  stands  in  the  same  need  of 
Christianizing  as  did  Alaric  in  the  year  four  hundred." 

Doniphan  had  walked  over  to  the  long  French  window 
which  opened  on  a  shady  grass  plot  separated  from  the 
churchyard  by  a  low  iron  fence  and  a  hedge  of  box. 

The  place  held  memories  for  him,  —  memories  of  his 
younger  years,  —  altogether  bitter,  altogether  sad.  He  re- 
membered walking  there  with  Margaret  Faucon  when  he 
had  first  come  home  from  college.  The  intimacy  between 
the  two  families  had  been  very  close.  Cuthbert  had  just 
married  his  sister ;  a  closer  tie  between  himself  and  Mar- 
garet Faucon  had  seemed  so  necessary  to  him  then,  and, 
without  vanity,  so  possible. 

He  had  known  of  Cuthbert's  ardent  approval,  for  Cuth- 
bert could  be  ardent  in  those  days ;  and  he  believed  still 
he  could  have  won  the  girl's  love  if  it  had  not  been  for 
his  renunciation  of  the  Faith,  made  at  the  time  with  al- 
most brutal  frankness  —  the  kind  of  frankness  which 
three  and  twenty  thinks  the  necessary  accompaniment  of 
honest  conviction. 

Cuthbert  had  turned  to  ice  when  told  of  it.  Why  he 
had  been  so  bitter  Mobray  had  been  quick  to  guess.  They 
had  .not  met  for  a  year.  When  Doniphan  returned  to 
Brockton,  Margaret  had  married  Mortimer  Gilbreed  —  a 
man  whose  orthodoxy  was  unquestioned. 

Doniphan  had  stifled  all  resentment  —  had  met  them 
both  as  if  he  carried  no  scar  ;  but  it  had  all  come  back 
to  him  when  Margaret's  daughter  had  married  Ashton 
Leverson.  And  that  morning  by  the  Rectory  window  it 
all  came  back  to  him  again. 

He  roused  himself  sharply  as  the  Rector  finished  speak- 
ing. His  revery  had  brought  him  back,  quite  as  much 
as  the  other's  words,  to  the  point  at  issue.  His  one 
thought  throughout  all  this  must  be  for  Margaret.  He 
was  perfectly  cool  now. 


302  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  admit  your  estimate  of  Leverson,"  he  said  slowly, 
as  he  turned  back  into  the  room;  "but  why  place  him 
either  among  the  forces  opposed  to  the  Christian  Church 
or  those  belonging  to  it.  This  world,  unfortunately,  con- 
tains more  parasites  than  partisans.  Leverson's  type  be- 
longs to  all  centuries  and  all  creeds,  and  now,  as  always, 
has  been  willing  to  attain  to  outward  respectability  under 
the  wing  of  religion,  or  to  take  shelter  behind  its  skirts. 
I  merely  ask  you  now  to  make  it  clear  to  this  particular 
specimen  that  he  cannot  have  that  shelter  if  he  does  not 
behave  himself.'' 

The  choir  had  begun  to  practice  in  the  Church,  much 
to  Doniphan's  annoyance.  He  was  running  his  long 
nervous  fingers  up  and  down  the  back  of  Dr.  Fisher's 
"  Grounds  of  Christian  Belief,"  which  lay  on  the  table 
before  him.  The  deep  tones  of  the  organ  and  of  the 
lower  voices  came  to  him  muffled  and  subdued,  but  every 
now  and  then  a  boy's  soprano  rang  out  above  the  accom- 
paniment clear  and  shrill,  with  some  line  of  the  Te  Deum 
Laudamus. 

It  thrilled  through  Cuthbert  Faucon  like  a  trumpet  call, 
as  his  sensitive  ear  vibrated  to  the  perfect  harmony.  He 
was  on  his  own  ground  here.  The  color  which  had  been 
slowly  rising  in  his  delicate  face  died  out,  leaving  it  pale 
again,  the  pallor  of  a  deeply  stirred  feeling,  though  the 
voice  was  cold  and  measured, 

"  You  need  have  no  fear  that  I  will  betray  my  trust," 
he  returned  stiffly,  "  I  am  grateful  to  you  for  having 
given  me  this  unpalatable  news,  none  the  less  so  that  it 
should  have  come  to  me  through  others." 

"  What  others  ?  " 

"  Who,  surely,  but  Margaret  Leverson  herself.  She 
was  brought  up  in  the  Church.  Why  is  it  that  in  the 
hour  of  her  greatest  need  she  does  not  turn  to  it,  but  to 
you?      You   have  sneered  at  the  confessional,  but   you 


A  MAN  AND  A  PRIEST  303 

have  constituted  yourself  her  confessor.  You  have  doubt- 
less told  her  she  needed  no  guide  but  her  own  sense  of 
right,  her  own  inward  promptings ;  but  when  her  inward 
promptings  lead  her  to  do  something  likely  to  get  her 
name  into  the  newspapers  through  midnight  visits  to  hos- 
pitals, you  substitute  your  sense  of  right  and  take  her  home 
again." 

"  I'm  sorry  you  think  so  poorly  of  me  as  to  suppose  I 
cannot  give  a  word  of  friendly  counsel  without  assump- 
tion. You  can  hardly  blame  me  that  you  left  the  hospital 
before  she  got  there.  Even  that  is  not  an  excuse  for 
dragging  Margaret's  name  into  this  discussion." 

•'  She  is  a  rather  important  part  of  the  problem.  When 
I  take  my  stand  with  Ashton  Leverson,  it  will  be  with  its 
effect  on  Margaret  staring  me  in  the  face.  My  influence 
over  her  will  be  a  matter  of  some  importance  then.  How 
much  it  amounts  to,  you  know  better  than  I  do.  Against 
my  wishes  and  advice  you  have  given  the  girl  a  man's 
education,  or,  rather,  a  man's  reading,  for  she  retains  a 
woman's  reasoning  powers  and  a  child's  impulsiveness. 
The  time  was  when  she  turned  to  me  for  spiritual  guid- 
ance. Now  she  requires  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  last 
time  £he  was  here  she  elucidated  Clement  of  Alexandria's 
views  on  Deity  with  great  cleverness,  yet  she  seems  to  be 
wofully  lacking  in  the  kind  of  cleverness  which  might 
make  her  home  more  attractive  to  Leverson," 

Doniphan's  lips  were  not  smiling  now.  He  leaned  for- 
ward across  the  table  ;  the  hand  that  rested  on  its  polished 
surface  shook  even  under  his  light  weight.  The  look  he 
gave  the  priest  might  have  scorched  him. 

"  You !  You  of  all  men  to  sneer  at  her ! "  he  cried 
hoarsely.  "  You,  who  allowed  her  father  to  sell  her  to 
Leverson ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  the  other  man  demanded,  white 
as  death. 


304  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  You  don't  know  at  the  time  of  the  marriage  Gilbreed 
owed  Leverson  fifty  thousand  dollars  —  lost  in  specula- 
tion ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  it."  Cuthbert's  voice  was  strained 
beyond  recognition. 

"  Well,  you  know  it  now.  A  man  who  will  sell  his  polit- 
ical honor  to  the  highest  bidder  will  sell  that  of  his  rela- 
tives when  hard  enough  pressed.  It  is  well  you  should 
know  Leverson  as  the  purchaser  before  you  defend  him," 
Doniphan  said  with  a  sneer.  He  snatched  up  his  hat 
from  the  table,  sorry  from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  he 
had  ever  come. 

Cuthbert  had  recovered  himself  instantly ;  had  wrapped 
himself  in  his  old  manner  as  if  it  were  a  garment  proof 
against  anything  Doniphan  could  say. 

"  I  have  not  defended  him,"  he  returned  quietly.  "  On 
the  contrary,  I  have  condemned  him,  perhaps  too  hastily. 
If  you  have  no  more  to  substantiate  this  last  charge  than 
the  former,  we  may  both  turn  out  to  have  drawn  too  many 
conclusions.  Its  foundation,  as  I  understand  it,  is  the  word 
of  a  street  Preacher  whom  you  and  my  hopeful  young 
nephew  appear  to  have  taken  into  your  confidence  upon 
this  delicate  family  matter.  It  is  much  the  same  with  your 
assumption  of  Leverson's  relationship  to  the  Church.  You 
have  miscomprehended  that  completely.  His  connection 
consists  solely  in  renting  a  pew  in  St.  Stephen's,  which  he 
occupies  personally  once  or  twice  a  year.  He  is  not  a 
communicant,  nor  would  he  be  received  as  such  without 
giving  some  assurance  of  a  better  disposition  than  I  have 
ever  observed  in  him.  But  your  relations  with  him  seem 
even  more  unfortunate.  You  see  him  on  the  point  of  a 
transaction  little  better  than  fraudulent,  though  it  may  be 
legal  enough.  What  do  you  do }  DecHne,  of  course,  to 
go  into  it  yourself,  but  beyond  that  you  merely  wash  your 
hands  of  him.     Your  keen  sense  of  honor  as  a  Director  of 


A  MAN  AND  A  PRIEST  305 

the  Company  prevents  you  saying  anything  about  it,  even 
to  me,  until  it  is  on  the  point  of  consummation,  and  then 
you  casually  inform  me  that  my  niece's  husband  is  a  stock 
sharper  and  a  libertine  —  that  Margaret  herself  has  hardly 
enough  discretion  to  keep  within  conventional  bounds  un- 
der the  circumstances,  and  then  ask  me  what  I  am  going 
to  do  about  it." 

The  boy  soprano  sang  on  relentlessly.  The  music 
appeared  to  soothe  Cuthbert.  To  Doniphan  it  seemed 
saturated  with  a  horrible  mockery.  A  flame  shot  up 
from  the  dying  fire,  lighting  the  face  on  the  cross  above 
their  heads.  Under  the  play  of  the  light  the  lips  seemed 
to  move  as  the  boy  sang  for  the  twentieth  time :  — 

"  The  Father  of  an  Infinite  Majesty?'' 

The  light  in  Doniphan's  eyes  still  smouldered,  though 
his  voice  was  merely  scornful  as  he  said :  — 

''  If  you  don't  enjoy  sharing  in  the  responsibility,  I  don't 
much  blame  you.  If  you  try  conclusions  with  Leverson, 
whose  crime  has  no  defenders,  and  break  with  him,  then 
you  have  the  Colonel  and  then  Whitelaw.  Their  respect- 
able greed  may  bring  as  much  misery  into  the  world  as 
Leverson's  brutality,  but  it  cannot  be  attacked  with  the 
same  impunity.  As  Emerson  says,  '  These  are  not  men, 
but  hungers,  thirsts,  fevers,  and  appetites  walking.'  You 
have  reproached  me  that  my  gospel  has  not  torn  the  cov- 
ering off  such  rottenness,  but  has  yours .''  You  claim 
Divine  Light,  Divine  Guidance;  but  has  the  so-called 
Christian  Church  followed  or  led  in  the  great  moral 
struggles  of  a  century }  Has  she  not  preached  blind  obe- 
dience to  tyranny  and  superstition  as  often  as  she  has 
preached  patriotism  .-*  Has  she  not  spoken  for  slavery 
south  of  a  certain  line  and  liberty  north  of  it }  Will  she 
to-day  turn  her  back  on  her  own  members,  the  men  who 
are  juggling  with   honesty,  or  will   she   try  to  settle  an 


306  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

industrial  problem  by  establishing  soup  kitchens,  and  tell- 
ing the  restless  millions  to  rest  content  with  their  wages 
and  harm  no  man  ?  No,  my  friend,  it  is  not  I  who  am 
unfaithful.  I  did  not  kill  your  religion.  I  found  it  dead 
and  have  tried  to  raise  up  something  to  take  its  place  ;  for 
if  you  be  the  salt  of  the  earth,  you  have  certainly  lost  your 
savor.  The  final  decision  of  the  Church  may  be  right,  but 
will  it  be  hers  ? " 

"  Yes,  everlastingly  yes  !  "  the  other  retorted.  "  Even 
now,  in  the  midst  of  your  abuse  of  her,  you  owe  her  every- 
thing. You,  Mobray  Doniphan,  stand  to-day  as  much  a 
product  of  eighteen  Christian  centuries  as  I  do.  You 
call  down  Heaven  to  witness  your  good  intentions,  but 
where,  such  as  they  are,  did  you  get  them.''  Not  from  your 
heathen  ancestors.  Now,  as  always,  you,  and  men  like 
you,  assure  the  world  it  no  longer  needs  a  Church,  and 
then  when  your  own  boasted  system  of  moral  law  breaks 
down  in  hopeless  ruin,  you  come  to  her,  not  in  penitence 
and  self-abasement,  but  with  the  complete  assurance  of 
your  time  and  class,  and  tell  me  you  ask  my  aid  as  a  man, 
because  you  cannot  in  decency  ask  my  aid  as  a  priest." 

"  It's  an  error  I  am  not  likely  to  commit  again,"  Doni- 
phan sneered.  "  Perhaps  you'll  forgive  me,  Cuthbert,  if  at 
times  I've  thought  I  observed  something  in  you  almost 
human.  But  it's  a  mistake.  The  cassock  never  covered 
anything  human  yet,  and  never  will.  It's  the  old,  old 
answer  to  the  old,  old  question.  As  I  haven't  educated 
the  girl  in  your  own  way,  j^ou  won't  save  her.  Not  having 
developed  into  the  kind  of  woman  who  can  lead  a  life  she 
considers  useless  and  wicked  with  a  smiling  face,  clutching 
her  prayer-book  in  her  poor  weak  hand  as  her  sole  stay 
and  comfort,  she  must  be  abandoned  as  hopeless.  Now 
don't  affect  to  misunderstand  me,  I  am  not  sneering 
at  the  kind  of  woman  her  mother  was  before  her  —  the 
kind  of  woman  you  want  her  to  be.     Looking  back  on  the 


A   MAN   AND   A   PRIEST  307 

long  years  when  that  other  woman  ate  her  heart  out  with- 
out a  murmur,  I  can  revere  her  saintliness  without  wishing 
the  daughter  to  follow  in  her  footsteps.  She  shan't  if  I 
can  help  it." 

He  had  spoken  with  increasing  bitterness,  his  voice  low, 
but  piercing.  Cuthbert  Faucon  had  hardly  grasped  the 
menace  of  the  last  words  before  Doniphan  had  flung 
open  the  long  window  and  had  gone,  letting  in  a  draught 
of  the  clear  summer  air  from  the  outside  world. 

He  sprang  after  him,  passing  hastily  around  a  buttress 
of  the  Church,  calling  "  Mobray  !  Mobray  !  "  but  the  man 
had  disappeared  as  completely  from  his  sight  as  he  believed 
he  had  from  his  life. 

When  he  got  back  to  his  study,  the  fire  had  gone  out. 
The  cross  above  it  was  in  deep  shadow,  but  he  could  see 
the  outlines  of  the  figure  as  he  gazed  up  at  it. 

There  had  been  a  time  when  that  cross  had  stood  between 
him  and  chaos,  and  he  was  only  giving  back  to  it  the  best 
he  had  to  give,  —  an  undivided  loyalty  innocent  of  any 
compromise.  In  Ayhat  he  believed  to  be  its  service  he 
had  sacrificed  his  own  love  for  the  other  man  without  a 
moment's  thought,  as  he  had  sacrificed  it  thirty  years  before. 

And  yet,  —  if  the  Ivory  Figure  had  suddenly  waked  to 
life,  would  it  have  harmonized  with  his  preconception  ? 
And  if  not,  would  even  this  sincere  Disciple  have  known 
his  Master  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

WHITELAW   IS   PUT   IN   HIS    PROPER   PLACE    AND   MAKES 
THE    MOST    OF    IT 

When  Randal  Whitelaw  reached  his  office  that  morning, 
he  found  Mrs.  Leverson,  to  his  unutterable  astonishment, 
seated  by  the  open  window  of  his  private  room  evidently 
waiting  for  him. 

"  Excuse  my  abruptness.  They  did  not  tell  me  you 
were  here,"  he  said,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  with  a  touch 
of  embarrassment. 

"  I  came  here  at  Mr.  Leverson's  request,"  she  returned 
without  noticing  his  manner.  "  He  wished  me  to  consult 
with  you  about  Jane  Kirk." 

"  What  about  Jane  .'*  "  he  asked,  seating  himself  in  his 
leathern  office  chair.     "  Not  worse,  I  hope  .-'  " 

"  Very  much  worse.  There  was  an  incident  this  morn- 
ing which  Mr.  Leverson  thinks  makes  it  imperative  for 
him  to  take  some  action.  I  spoke  to  him  about  it  before 
he  left  the  house,  and  he  asked  me  to  see  you.  There  would 
be  legal  steps  necessary  if  she  were  put  under  restraint, 
would  there  not  ? " 

"  Yes,  but  that  would  not  be  difficult.  Knowing  the 
case  as  I  do,  I  should  say  not  at  all  difficult.  What  sur- 
prises me  is  that  Leverson  himself  should  consent  to  it. 
He  has  always  pooh-poohed  anything  of  that  kind,  though 
I  told  him  six  months  ago  it  would  be  advisable.  I'm  not 
an  alarmist,  as  you  know,  but  she  has  struck  me  at  times 
as  rather  dangerous." 

308 


WHITELAW   IS   PUT  IN   HIS   PROPER  PLACE  309 

"  Mr.  Leverson  thinks  so  now,  at  any  rate,  dangerous 
for  Miss  Laurie,  that  is ;  the  woman  appears  to  have 
taken  a  violent  dishke  to  her." 

"  Has  Miss  Laurie  been  consulted  about  this.'" 

"  Yes,  and  opposes  it  very  strongly.  Without  agreeing 
with  her,  I  can  quite  understand  why.  Jane  Kirk  has 
been  in  the  family  for  years  ;  her  association  with  her  has 
been  very  close.  It  is  supposed  her  affliction  came  upon 
her  through  grief  at  the  elder  Mr.  Leverson's  death." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that.  This  old  Scotch  woman  was  some- 
thing more  than  upper  servant  in  John  Leverson's  time. 
Originally  Ashton's  nurse,  she  stayed  on  years  after  he 
grew  up,  very  much  respected,  very  much  in  the  confi- 
dence of  Miss  Laurie." 

Whitelaw  spoke  rather  carefully.  To-day  for  the  first 
time  in  his  knowledge  of  her,  Margaret  baffled  him. 
There  was  a  subtile  change  in  her  manner  that  puzzled 
and  rather  annoyed  him.  In  spite  of  her  expressed 
sympathy  for  Miss  Laurie,  she  had  put  the  case  in  a  hard 
impersonal  way  which  reminded  him  of  Mildred. 

"  What  was  the  incident  this  morning  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  gave  him  a  detailed  account  of  what  had  occurred, 
and  he  listened  to  it  with  professional  attention. 

"  There  would  be  no  trouble  in  getting  the  two  certifi- 
cates from  Lindley  and  Smalls,"  he  said  thoughtfully, 
when  she  had  finished.  "  But  it  seems  to  me  I  had  better 
see  Miss  Laurie  first.  I  think  that  is  only  courteous, 
under  the  circumstances,  and  besides  there  are  one  or  two 
things  I  should  like  to  be  certain  of  before  I  put  two 
doctors  on  the  case.  As  Leverson  is  not  here  this  morn- 
ing and  it  is  imperative  I  should  see  him  before  the  meeting 
to-morrow,  I  may  run  out  to  Elmhurst  to-night." 

"  Oh,  that  was  another  thing  he  asked  me  to  speak  to 
you  about.  He'll  not  be  able  to  be  at  the  meeting  to- 
morrow ;  he's  gone  yachting." 


310  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Whitelaw  leaned  forward  and  picked  up  a  scrap  of 
paper  which  had  dropped  on  the  floor.  When  he  again 
looked  at  Margaret,  his  face  was  as  inscrutable  as  ever ;  a 
moment  before  it  had  been  very  readable. 

"  Does  Mr.  Leverson  understand, "  he  began  slowly, 
"  that  this  is  a  Stockholders'  Special  Meeting  which  can 
hardly,  under  the  circumstances,  be  adjourned  .-'  " 

Margaret  was  perfectly  cool,  Leverson  himself  could 
not  have  been  more  indifferent  to  circumstances. 

"Oh,  yes,  he  quite  understands,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"  He  does  not  wish  it  adjourned.  He  said  that  your  own 
stock  and  Colonel  Gilbreed's  represents  a  clear  majority  if 
his  is  not  voted.     Otherwise  he  could  have  sent  a  —  a  —  " 

"  Proxy,"  suggested  Whitelaw,  amused  in  spite  of  him- 
self. 

Margaret  looked  relieved.  "  I  believe  that  was  it,  but 
as  he  didn't  send  it,  it  doesn't  so  much  matter  what  it  was, 
does  it?  I  understood  him  to  say  that  you  knew  exactly 
what  to  do." 

"  I  suppose  we  ought  to  feel  flattered." 

He  was  watching  her  closely  as  she  talked,  his  mind  on 
many  things.  Why  this  move  on  Leverson's  part  ?  Was 
it  to  avoid  going  personally  on  the  record  in  this  critical 
step  ?  If  so,  then  Leverson  too  had  had  his  doubts. 
How  much  of  them  did  Margaret  Leverson  share .-'  Could 
her  interest  in  the  man  at  the  hospital  have  come  from 
this.?  Was  it  possible  that  he,  Whitelaw,  had  entirely 
misread  her  ? 

"  Of  course  Mr.  Leverson  is  pleased  at  the  idea  of  the 
sale,"  Margaret  was  saying.  "  He  is  so  very  glad  to  get 
away  from  Brockton,  and  for  the  matter  of  that,  so  am  L" 

That  sense  of  amusement  came  back  to  Whitelaw  as  he 
watched  her  say  this.  Her  acting  was,  after  all,  not  well 
sustained,  though  very  likely  in  a  sense  she  had  spoken 
the  exact  truth.     For  a  moment  she  had  deceived   him, 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE     31 1 

but  this  last  touch  was  entirely  overdone.  He  pushed  the 
test  a  little  farther. 

"  Brockton  is  rather  dismal,"  he  assented  gravely, 
"though  I  dare  say  my  views  are  jaundiced.  I  was  up 
late  last  night  at  the  hospital.  Of  course  you  know  why. 
They  tell  me  this  morning  young  Thallon's  dying.  Bright 
boy,  too.     I'm  right  sorry." 

Those  long,  nervous  fingers  of  the  girl's  tightened  sud- 
denly upon  the  arms  of  the  chair  which  faced  him  across 
the  table;  every  particle  of  color  had  fled  from  her  face. 

"  Magnificent  weather  for  yachting,"  Whitelaw  remarked 
casually  after  a  pause. 

She  rose  to  go,  conscious  that  she  had  not  done  well ; 
conscious  that  those  keen  eyes  of  his  had  read  her  as  if 
she  had  been  an  open  book.  She  had  never  altogether 
liked  or  trusted  him,  though  she  had  always  reproached 
herself  for  not  doing  so;  his  loyalty  to  Ashton  had  been  so 
obvious.  But  to-day  she  was  doubtful  even  of  that,  though 
why  she  could  not  have  told.  There  was  something 
about  him  which  made  her  cling  to  the  part  she  had 
assumed,  even  after  it  had  ceased  to  be  any  disguise. 

"Yes,  isn't  it,"  she  said,  glancing  out  of  the  window  at 
the  dome  of  perfect  blue  which  showed  above  the  tops  of 
the  opposite  buildings.  "  Wind  west,  and  no  smoke  to 
speak  of,  even  in  Brockton.  I  should  have  gone  myself 
on  the  yacht,  but  Mr.  Leverson's  return  is  rather  uncertain, 
and  of  course,  I'm  rushed  getting  ready  for  Newport. 
When  one  doesn't  expect  to  return,  the  breaking  up  is  so 
much  more  trying;  I  mean,"  she  added,  hastily  correct- 
ing herself,  "there  is  so  much  more  to  be  done." 

Whitelaw  rose  of  necessity,  as  she  had  risen,  but  he 
made  no  move  to  open  the  door,  as  if  he  still  had  something 
left  to  say.  That  curious  expression  in  his  eyes  still  held 
her  there,  more  or  less  against  her  will. 

"  Why  do  you  try  to  play  a  part  with  me  ? "     His  voice 


312  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

was  cold,  ironical,  as  his  voice  often  was,  yet  it  suggested 
the  repression  of  something  deeper,  more  passionate,  strug- 
gling for  mastery  beneath  it,  as  he  went  on.  "  I  have 
known  you  very  nearly  all  your  life,  better  sometimes  than 
you  have  known  yourself.  Do  you  suppose  I  don't  know 
you  now  when  the  crisis  which  I  foresaw  from  the  first 
has  at  last  actually  come  .■'  " 

"  I  really  fail  to  understand  you,"  she  said  with  a  sur- 
prise that  was  genuine.  "As  what  you  have  to  say  seems 
to  have  no  connection  with  the  business  which  brought 
me  here,  —  the  business  of  your  employer,  —  and  as  I 
stand  in  no  need  personally  of  your  advice,  it  is  not  worth 
while  —  " 

"  It  is  very  well  worth  while,"  he  broke  in  with  sudden 
passion,  "  to  pause  an  instant  and  look  back  at  what  has 
filled  in  the  last  two  years,  if  you  can  once  realize  that  the 
years  to  come  are  to  be  filled  up  like  them.  It  might  even 
have  been  worth  while  if  I  had  stopped  you  on  your  way 
to  the  hospital  last  night,  for  I  saw  you  go  in  there  as  I 
came  away.  Yet  my  doing  so  could  only  have  deferred 
the  crisis,  not  hindered  it.  The  break  was  sure  to  come 
sooner  or  later,  as  inevitable  as  fate.  You  were  in  open 
rebellion  then  ;  to-day  you  are  in  chains  again.     Why  .-'  " 

Her  face  did  not  lack  color  as  he  finished  speaking, 
not  of  embarrassment,  but  of  intense  anger.  Her  look 
ought  to  have  scorched  him  where  he  stood,  with  its  unut- 
terable contempt. 

"  You  will  certainly  not  find  it  worth  your  while  to  put 
a  question  Uke  that  to  me,"  she  said,  with  slow,  scathing 
emphasis.  "  You  strangely  forget  your  own  position  and 
mine.  You  have  been  admitted  to  your  employer's  house 
upon  a  footing  of  some  intimacy  because  you  have  been 
useful  to  him.  Don't  presume  upon  it ;  I  advise  you  for 
your  own  sake.  Mr.  Leverson  can  change  his  lawyer 
much  more  easily  than  change  his  butler.     His  personal 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE     313 

comfort  is  much  less  dependent  upon  you  than  upon 
Morgan,  believe  me." 

The  light  of  battle  shone  for  an  instant  in  Whitelaw's 
face.  A  moment  before  he  would  have  staked  his  brilliant 
career,  his  assured  position,  everything  he  had  amassed, 
worked,  schemed  for,  for  the  chance  of  one  little  word 
from  this  girl's  lips ;  now  he  fairly  hated  her  with  the 
same  hatred  he  bestowed  upon  the  man  whose  protection 
she  invoked. 

"  I  doubt  that,"  he  retorted  harshly,  picking  up  a  paper- 
cutter  from  his  table  and  bending  it  backward  and  for- 
ward between  his  muscular  fingers ;  "  I  make  no  boast  in 
saying  I've  stood  between  Ashton  Leverson  and  ruin  more 
than  once,  for  aught  you  know  I  may  stand  there  now. 
Anyway,  I've  done  things  for  him — that  is  to  say  for 
you  —  I  would  not  have  done  for  myself,  and  got  no 
thanks  for  it.     Well,  well,  let  that  pass." 

He  paused  a  moment,  evidently  struggling  for  self- 
control.  His  face  looked  worn  and  haggard.  His  lips 
were  quite  colorless ;  she  noticed  that  now  for  the  first 
time.  When  he  spoke  again,  the  defiance  had  all  gone 
out  of  his  face,  the  voice  had  softened  wonderfully.  His 
eyes  again  on  hers  had  something  almost  pleading  in 
them. 

"  But  I  make  no  pretence.  I  do  not  speak  for  his  sake, 
far  from  it.  I  can't  help  speaking  in  protest  against  fur- 
ther disguise  between  us  two.  If  you  had  had  anything 
human  in  you,  you  would  have  known  what  I  went  through 
the  day  he  separated  us.  No,  don't  stop  me.  I've  led  a 
dog's  life  for  years,  when  I  might  have  crushed  him  by 
the  turn  of  a  finger,  and  it  has  all  been  for  you.  Anyway, 
it  has  given  me  some  rights  —  the  right  to  ask  some  frank- 
ness at  your  hands.  Why  pretend  your  choice  has  brought 
you  any  more  happiness  than  it  has  brought  me  .■* " 

He   paused   a   moment  to  moisten  his  dry  lips.     She 


314  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Started  to  pass  him,  her  anger  too  deep  for  words,  but  he 
barred  her  progress  by  a.  quick  motion  which  placed  him 
between  her  and  the  door. 

"  You  shall  hear  me,"  he  muttered,  an  answering  angry 
light  in  his  own  eyes,  "  if  I  sell  my  soul  for  it.  We're 
neither  of  us  quite  so  young,  neither  of  us  quite  so  happy, 
neither  of  us  quite  so  innocent,  as  in  the  old  days  before 
the  Colonel  broke  up  the  old  home  here  in  Brockton.  Yes, 
I  know  I  was  twenty-five  years  older  than  you  were,  but 
I  was  younger  then  than  Ashton  Leverson  ever  was  or 
could  be,  if  youth  means  love.  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  Of 
course,  it  was  absurd.  Middle-aged  men  are  apt  to  be 
absurd  at  times,  but  nevertheless  I  was  right  when  I  told 
myself  he  could  never  make  you  happy." 

Beyond  keeping  his  voice  low  pitched,  Randal  Whitelaw 
had  thrown  discretion  to  the  winds.  His  face  was  work- 
ing with  intense  passion,  the  more  marked  in  one  who 
knew  so  well  how  to  keep  it  under  careful  guard ;  the  bit 
of  frail  wood  he  played  with  between  his  fingers  snapped 
like  a  rotten  twig  and  he  tossed  it  aside  as  she  stopped  his 
flow  of  words  with  an  imperious  gesture. 

"  I  have  heard  more  than  enough ;  call  the  carriage, 
please,"  was  all  she  said,  but  her  full  round  lips  were 
compressed  to  a  hard  straight  line,  and  her  eyes  had  an 
ominous  glow  in  them  that  boded  him  no  good,  and  all  at 
once  he  seemed  to  know  it. 

His  guard  broke  completely  down.  He  put  his  hand  to 
his  head  in  a  dazed  way. 

"What  have  I  done  .''  You  must  forgive  me!  I  have 
been  under  a  horrible  strain.  I  did  not  know  what  I  was 
saying.  You  can't  part  from  me  in  anger,"  he  put  in  be- 
seechingly, though  he  had  moved  to  open  the  door  in 
response  to  a  gesture  of  the  girl's  hand  that  he  obeyed 
much  as  if  he  had  been  a  child.  She  had  taken  the  reins 
out  of  his  hands  and  was  in  full  control  now.     More  than 


WUITELAW  IS   PUT  IN   HIS  PROPER   PLACE  315 

that,  she  was  perfect  mistress  of  herself.  She  had  some- 
thing to  say  that  required  coolness  to  make  it  tell. 

"  I  should  dislike  to  speak  to  my  husband  about  this," 
she  said,  looking  him  full  in  the  face.  "  I  know  and  you 
know  very  well  what  he  would  do.  I  hope  you  won't 
make  that  necessary." 

She  made  no  boast,  and  the  knowledge  that  she  had 
made  none  gave  her  keen  elation  in  the  midst  of  her  sor- 
row and  her  wounded  pride.  Whatever  his  faults,  she 
could  count  on  Ashton  Leverson  there.  He  was  not  at 
all  the  kind  of  man  to  allow  another  to  insult  his  wife 
with  impunity ;  that  was  a  privilege  he  reserved  exclu- 
sively for  himself. 

As  for  Whitelaw,  the  contempt  in  her  manner,  no  less 
than  in  her  words,  touched  him  like  caustic  on  a  raw 
wound.  His  mental  resources  felt  the  slur  as  keenly  as 
his  physical  courage.  But  the  moment  of  miserable  weak- 
ness had  passed.  The  very  sting  of  her  contempt  roused 
something  of  that  old  enmity  which  in  this  man  was  so 
near  akin  to  his  tenderer  feeling  for  Margaret  Leverson. 
For  an  instant  it  almost  came  to  him  to  throw  his  surplus 
baggage  overboard  and  declare  war. 

But  the  time  had  not  yet  come  for  that.  If  things  went 
badly  in  a  certain  life-and-death  struggle  then  going  on 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  that  comfortable  office  of  his, 
the  ripe  opportunity  might  not  come  for  years.  He  could 
not  afford  to  play  a  losing  game. 

The  fact  that  his  brain  could  again  take  into  account 
these  important  elements  of  the  problem  not  there  a 
moment  since,  showed  that  Randal  Whitelaw  was  cool- 
ing rapidly.  He  saw  now  the  horrible  blunder  he  had 
made,  had  begun  to  see  that  it  must  be  retraced,  but  even 
then  it  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  him  that  she  should  set 
it  down  to  his  fear  of  Leverson. 

"  You  are  quite  welcome  to  tell  Ashton  Leverson  any- 


3l6  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

thing  you  choose,"  he  said  wearily.  "  Nevertheless,  as 
you  have  taken  it  so,  I  regret  having  spoken.  Let  the 
silence  of  years  offset  the  hasty  speech  of  a  moment.  I'll 
never  trouble  you  again  with  my  middle-aged  absurdities. 
Only  —  if  you  ever  need  me —  But  there  —  I'm  absurd 
again.  It  is  not  conceivable  you  would  ever  take  anything 
at  my  hands." 

She  looked  at  him  quite  calmly  but  critically. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  it  is,"  she  said. 

He  held  out  his  hand,  as  if  by  a  sudden  impulse, 

"  Couldn't  we  be  friends  even  after  this  ? " 

For  the  first  time  in  her  knowledge  of  him  she  saw  a 
suggestion  of  moisture  in  his  eyes ;  but  it  left  her  quite 
unmoved.  She  was  not  at  all  the  kind  of  woman  to  allow 
a  sentiment  to  bhnd  her  to  facts  she  considered  vital.  She 
had  never  fully  trusted  him  before,  when  she  had  thought 
that  in  a  certain  sense  he  was  a  gentleman ;  she  was  cer- 
tainly not  likely  to  trust  him  now. 

"  Your  assumption  that  there  has  ever  been  any  friend- 
ship between  us  is  the  most  absurd  part  of  you  to-day," 
she  said  with  a  touch  of  girlish  amusement,  "  When  you 
first  came  to  my  father's  house,  I  was  a  schoolgirl  of  fif- 
teen. My  only  real  acquaintance  with  you  has  been  as 
my  husband's  lawyer,  and  I  prefer  to  limit  it  to  that.  I 
won't  do  anything  to  make  you  lose  the  place ;  that's  all  I 
can  promise." 

The  color  leaped  to  his  face.  His  rejected  hand  dropped 
to  his  side,  the  fingers  clinched. 

"Very  well,  then,"  he  said  hoarsely;  "we'll  be  quite 
cordial  enemies  —  only  remember,  it's  your  own  choice." 

"I  choose  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  don't  care  enough 
about  you  to  regard  you  as  an  enemy.  Please  let  that  be 
the  last  word.  You've  already  worn  that  subject  to  tatters. 
When  am  I  to  tell  Miss  Laurie  you  will  see  her  about  Jane 
Kirk  ? " 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN   HIS  PROPER  PLACE  317 

He  dropped  into  his  old  cold  manner  almost  with  a 
sense  of  relief.  No  one  to  have  seen  his  face  as  he 
referred  to  some  memoranda  on  his  table  would  have 
believed  the  man  capable  of  deep  emotion. 

"  To-night,  I  think,"  he  said  slowly,  "  if  I'm  not  wanted 
at  the  hospital.  I  am  keeping  some  track  of  the  criminal 
side  of  the  case.  If  Mr.  Thallon  should  wish  to  make  any 
ante-mortem  statement,  I  might  have  to  drop  everything 
else  and  go.     Miss  Laurie  would  understand." 

He  was  watching  her  again  closely,  but  this  time  she 
bore  it  very  well.  Her  calmness,  oddly  enough,  increased 
his  irritation.  This  girl  was  sailing  serenely  through  very 
troubled  waters  with  her  eyes  tight  shut,  but  it  was  no 
longer  his  part  to  enlighten  her.  If  he  had  tried,  she 
would  probably  have  put  that  down  as  another  insult. 

When  he  got  back  to  his  office  after  seeing  her  to  her 
carriage,  he  was  in  no  very  gentle  mood,  but  he  did  not 
allow  that  to  interfere  with  his  day's  work.  All  through 
the  long  hot  hours  of  that  July  day  he  toiled  on.  Only 
toward  evening  did  he  allow  himself  to  contemplate  his 
next  move  on  the  Leverson  board. 

Ascertaining  by  telephone  that  there  was  no  change  in 
the  situation  at  the  hospital,  he  turned  his  steps  toward 
Elmhurst  directly  after  a  late  supper  at  the  Everett.  The 
dusk  had  begun  to  gather  as  he  approached  the  house,  and 
lights  were  lighted  inside,  though  there  was  no  one  in  the 
drawing-room  where  he  waited  for  Miss  Laurie. 

She  did  not  keep  him  long  waiting,  which  was  charac- 
teristic of  a  woman  who  was  never  more  prompt  than  when 
she  had  something  disagreeable  to  do.  Whitelaw  rose  as 
the  rustle  of  her  lace-trimmed  tea-gown  on  the  stairs  an- 
nounced her  coming,  and  held  aside  the  portiere  for  her 
to  pass.  She  was  in  her  most  brusque  mood,  and  contin- 
ued standing  just  within  the  threshold,  as  the  broadest 
kind  of  a  hint  that  she  intended  the  interview  to  be  short. 


3l8  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Whitelaw,  however,  did  not  take  the  hint.  Without  any 
apology  he  closed  the  door  behind  her,  and  even  walked 
the  length  of  the  room  to  close  the  other.  As  he  did  so 
he  glanced  into  the  dining  room  to  make  sure  it  was 
untenanted. 

All  his  movements  were  leisurely,  but  they  seemed  to 
annoy  Miss  Laurie,  whose  eyes  had  followed  him  wher- 
ever he  went.  When  he  once  more  stood  in  front  of  her, 
they  were  regarding  him  fixedly  and  with  a  touch  of 
contempt. 

"  You  really  might  have  spared  yourself  all  that  trouble," 
she  began  with  one  of  her  small  grimaces.  "If  Margaret 
has  succeeded  in  imbuing  you  with  some  of  her  hysterical 
fears  about  Jane  Kirk,  as  she  appears  to  have  done  with 
Ashton,  I  should  recommend  the  same  course  of  treat- 
ment I  suggested  to  him,  —  entire  change  of  air  and  the 
dismissal  of  the  irritating  subject  from  your  mind.  I've 
no  doubt  he's  quite  cured  by  this  time." 

"  I  dare  say ;  but  I  don't  get  over  these  things  so  easily," 
the  lawyer  observed,  smiling.  "If  you've  no  objection,  I'll 
take  a  chair  and  ask  you  to  take  another.  I'm  sorry  to 
bother  you,  but  I've  one  or  two  things  to  say  that  have  got  to 
be  said  to  either  Ashton  Leverson  or  you.  Now  I  reckon 
you  would  prefer  I  should  not  say  them  to  him." 

"  Really,  I  don't  see  how  it  should  matter  to  me,"  she 
returned  icily.  Nevertheless  she  sat  down,  as  a  compro- 
mise, on  the  ragged  edge  of  a  chair. 

"  Don't  let  us  waste  time  in  idle  fencing,"  Whitelaw  said 
as  he  reseated  himself.  "My  being  here  is  only  incident- 
ally connected  with  Mrs.  Leverson.  I  should  have  come 
in  any  case  within  twenty-four  hours.  It's  important  you 
and  I  should  understand  one  another  about  this  matter. 
We've  discussed  it  before,  as  you  know,  more  or  less  in 
metaphor,  without  much  result.  Well,  the  time's  gone  by 
for  that.     This  thing's  getting  serious." 


WHITELAW   IS   PUT   IN   HIS   PROPER   PLACE  319 

"I  can  hardly  congratulate  you  on  your  success  if,  as 
you  imply,  you  are  aiming  at  lucidity,"  Miss  Laurie  re- 
marked grimly.  "  It  strikes  me  your  metaphors  are  as 
numerous  and  as  mixed  as  ever.  I  don't  understand  at  all 
what  you  mean  by  serious  —  try  again." 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  Miss  Laurie,  but  I  think  you're 
wrong  there.  I  think  you  understand  me  very  well.  As 
I  said  before,  there  need  be  none  of  this  thrust  and  parry 
business  between  us.  The  thing  is  serious,  not  because 
Jane  Kirk  is  mad  or  violent,  but  because  she  has  secreted 
some  papers  belonging  originally  to  John  Leverson,  and 
supposedly  addressed  to  Ashton,  though  he's  not  aware  of 
the  fact.  Had  these  papers  been  in  your  keeping,  say  three 
months  ago,  Miss  Laurie,  they  would  not  now  have  been  in 
existence;  but  unfortunately  you  thought  it  safe  at  "one  time 
to  leave  them  with  her,  — just  before  her  mind  gave  way, — 
and  have  never  been  able  to  lay  hands  on  them  since. 
When  I  say  '  unfortunately, '  I  mean  for  your  peace  of  mind. 
If  these  more  or  less  important  documents  were  to  fall  into» 
the  wrong  hands,  they  might  create  no  end  of  trouble.  I 
think  I  make  my  meaning  clear  so  far.  As  you  see,  I  have 
quite  discarded  metaphor." 

The  man  spoke  in  a  carefully  guarded  tone,  but  every 
word  was  clearly  distinct  to  his  Hstener,  who  sat  within 
three  feet  of  him.  As  he  finished,  he  glanced  across  at  her 
with  one  of  his  rare  smiles.  The  coloring  in  the  piece  of 
Dresden  China  opposite  seemed  to  have  faded  slightly 
within  the  last  few  minutes.  Nevertheless,  Miss  Laurie's 
voice  and  manner  were  perfectly  composed  as  she  rejoined: 

"  You  are  really  doing  very  well  indeed.     Pray  go  on." 

He  did,  and  with  increasing  confidence. 

"After  acquainting  you  with  my  possession  of  these 
facts,  for  the  facts  themselves  you  know  too  well  already, 
I  w^nt  to  convince  you  that  my  interest  in  them  is  an  en- 
tirely friendly  one  —  friendly  to  you,  that  is.     This  is  the 


320  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

more  important,  because,  though  guarding  this  little  matter 
carefully  for  the  last  three  years,  you  have  at  times  done 
things  which  if  any  one  else  had  done  them  might  have 
been  called  imprudent." 

"  It  is  nice  of  you  to  put  it  so  considerately,"  the  Dresden 
China  remarked  pleasantly.  "  Your  being  so  polite  about 
it  almost  makes  me  believe  in  your  sincerity  without  your 
proving  it." 

"  It's  not  necessary  to  go  very  far  for  that,"  he  put  in 
quickly,  though  without  eagerness.  "  Beyond  my  obliga- 
tions to  Ashton  Leverson,  my  own  personal  interests  are 
entirely  on  your  side.  If  you  had  only  paid  more  attention 
to  the  business  end  of  this  affair,  rather  than  the  senti- 
mental, as  is  the  manner  of  women,  you  would  have  seen 
how  deeply  committed  I  am  to  the  maintenance  of  things 
as  they  are.  In  two  words  Leverson's  ruin  means  my  ruin  ; 
you're  quite  bright  enough  to  see  that,  Miss  Laurie." 

"  And  may  I  ask  if  my  failing  to  see  that  is  what  you 
call  my  imprudence  .-"  "  This  from  Miss  Laurie  with  just  a 
shade  of  irony  in  her  voice. 

"  Well,  no ;  though  it  was  imprudent,  it  was  not  exactly 
what  I  had  in  mind  when  I  used  the  word.  It  is  always 
wise,  when  steering  a  difficult  course,  to  consult  occasionally 
with  a  lawyer  of  tried  fidelity.  The  indiscretion  I  referred 
to,  though  not  in  itself  the  neglect  of  that  precaution,  was 
the  direct  outcome  of  it.  You  certainly  would  not  have 
committed  it  if  I  had  been  in  your  confidence." 

"I'm  getting  yours,  at  any  rate,  without  having  to  pay 
for  it,"  the  Dresden  China  observed  as  it  smoothed  out  its 
lace  ruffles  and  settled  itself  more  comfortably  in  its  chair. 

"  I  shall  have  my  reward,  my  dear  Miss  Laurie,"  he 
returned  in  his  most  friendly  tone.  "  I've  seen  you  get- 
ting into  deeper  and  deeper  water  ever  since  the  advent 
here  of  a  young  man  to  whom  you  took,  quite  unexpectedly, 
a  sudden  and  violent  dislike.     That  was,  if  I  may  say  so, 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE     32 1 

very  imprudent  of  you.  I  had  no  more  reason  to  like  him 
than  you  had,  but  I  did  not  concentrate  all  my  energies  in 
making  an  enemy  of  him.  I  did  not  move  heaven  and 
earth  to  get  him  dismissed  from  Leverson's  service  as  you 
did  in  your  delightfully  feminine  disregard  of  appearances. 
In  short,  I  did  not  put  myself  in  a  position  where,  when 
he  became  the  victim  of  a  felonious  assault,  people  might 
ask  each  other  what  I  had  to  do  with  it." 

Despite  his  scrupulous  surface  politeness,  Whitelaw  made 
this  home  thrust  with  a  sinister  disregard  of  his  hearer's 
feeHngs  which  had  something  brutal  in  it.  The  sex  had 
been  rather  hard  on  him  within  the  last  few  hours  and  he 
could  not  afford  to  be  lenient.  He  was  not  made  more  so 
by  his  failure  to  score.  Miss  Laurie  merely  raised  her  deli- 
cately pencilled  eyebrows  and  remarked  :  — 

"  And  is  that  what  they  say  of  me  ? " 

"  It  is  what  I  say  to  myself  of  you,  and  right  or  wrong,  I 
have  some  reason  to  say  it.  This  man  Dupre  was  at  Elm- 
hurst  two  or  three  days  before  the  assault.  He  saw  only 
two  people,  Mrs.  Leverson  and  you.  There  is  no  con- 
ceivable reason  for  his  having  done  this  thing  unless 
some  one  inflamed  his  ill-balanced  brain  against  Thallon 
by  connecting  him  in  some  way  with  the  disappearance  of 
his  daughter.  Now,  who  had  any  possible  reason  for  doing 
that .? " 

"  How  charmingly  you  accuse  one  of  murder,"  Miss 
Laurie  put  in  with  a  little  laugh,  which,  however,  was  not 
entirely  natural.  "  I  almost  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  apologize 
for  being  quite  innocent  of  the  charge." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  can  take  it  so  easily,"  Whitelaw 
returned,  suppressing  any  sign  of  annoyance  he  might 
naturally  feel  at  Miss  Laurie's  refusal  to  be  frightened. 
"  Your  actual  guilt  in  a  matter  of  such  gravity  is  the  one 
thing  which  could  separate  our  interests.  Just  the  same, 
you  must  see  that  whether  you  instigated  this  thing  or  not, 


322  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

if  the  man  dies,  you  are  in  a  much  worse  position  than  if 
he  had  lived  and  done  his  worst,  I  tell  you  this  thing  is 
serious.  Your  safety  lies  in  the  fact  that  I  am  the  only 
man  living  in  a  position  to  put  two  and  two  together.  If 
the  world  in  general  knew  your  reasons  for  wishing  to  get 
rid  of  this  clerk  of  Leverson's  as  well  as  I  know  them,  I 
should  not  care  to  stand  in  your  shoes." 

Miss  Laurie  glanced  down  at  her  dainty  satin  slippers, 
the  toes  of  which,  nearly  covered  by  bows  of  pink  ribbon, 
peeped  from  beneath  her  lace-edged  petticoat.  They  did 
not  look  at  all  uncomfortable  for  her  to  stand  in,  but 
Whitelaw's  repudiation  of  them  seemed  to  require  thought. 
The  pause  was  not  especially  noticeable.  The  shell-like 
coloring  had  returned  to  her  soft  cheeks,  but  that  was  all. 
The  face  itself  was  as  emotionless  as  that  of  the  china 
shepherdess  between  whom  and  Miss  Laurie  there  was 
such  a  strong  family  likeness.  No  one  would  have  judged 
from  her  appearance  that  her  next  words  were  to  be  a 
practical  surrender. 

"Well,  having  convinced  me  of  your  importance,  what 
are  your  demands  ?  "  she  added.  "  Of  course,  I  understand 
that  you  intend  offering  your  valuable  assistance,  and  that 
you  do  not  offer  it  for  nothing.  You  know  I  hate  beating 
about  the  bush.  What's  your  price  ?  Personally,  as  you 
also  know,  I'm  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse.  I  suppose 
you  expect  me  to  draw  on  Ashton." 

Whitelaw  looked  hurt. 

"  I  am  not  a  conspirator  in  a  Bowery  melodrama,"  ne 
said  haughtily,  "  nor  am  I  in  the  habit  of  levying  black- 
mail. I  believe  you  have  grossly  mismanaged  a  delicate 
matter  closely  connected  with  the  welfare  of  one  of  my 
clients.  I  am  not  going  to  sit  still  and  see  you  ruin  him, 
and  incidentally  ruin  me,  because  your  continuing  to  play 
the  game  appeals  to  you  as  a  piece  of  sentimental  loyalty, 
Leverson  is  in  a  position  where  he  has  got  to  be  saved 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE  323 

from  that  kind  of  feminine  devotion.  But  come,"  tie  went 
on  with  one  of  his  swift  changes  of  manner,  "  I  don't  want 
to  belittle  what  you  have  done  for  him.  Do  you  suppose 
I  don't  know  that  you've  schemed  all  these  years  with  no 
thought  of  yourself,  that  everything  with  you  has  been  for 
Ashton .? " 

He  had  aimed  rather  better  than  he  knew.  The  little 
thin  hands  went  up  to  her  throat  with  a  quick  gesture  of 
intense  pain.  For  an  instant  the  room  seemed  to  go  round 
with  her ;  a  mist  rose  between  those  eyes  usually  so  keen 
and  the  man  who  had  just  spoken.  He  had  touched  some- 
thing long  hidden  beneath  her  hard  self-reliance,  her 
indomitable  will. 

"  You  won't  desert  him  ? "  The  voice  was  husky  and 
strained  and  came  from  her  lips  like  a  low  cry,  "  With  all 
his  popularity,  he  hasn't  a  real  friend  in  the  world  but 
me. 

It  was  Whitelaw's  turn  to  be  cautious  now, 

"  I  will  be  bound  by  no  promise,"  he  said  with  a  slight 
frown.  "  I  tell  you  frankly  I  will  do  nothing  for  his  sake 
or  yours  which  will  compromise  my  own  position.  But 
this  I  will  say ;  I  have  practical  control  of  this  thing  now, 
but  I  can  work  to  better  advantage  if  I  have  your  confi- 
dence. If  you  put  your  cards  into  my  hands,  I  am  not 
going  to  throw  them  down  on  the  table,  unless  the  other 
side  have  trumps  enough  to  force  my  hand.  I  don't  ex- 
pect the  worst,  but  you  must  not  complain  if  it  comes.  If 
I  come  in  at  the  eleventh  hour  by  no  invitation  of  yours 
and  find  you  practically  beaten,  we  must  make  the  best  of 
it,  that's  all." 

"  But  you  do  make  conditions  ? " 

"  Yes,  two.  I  must  know  all  you  know  without  reserve, 
and  I  must  have  your  assurance  that  you  are  guiltless  of 
any  complicity  in  this  Dupr^  affair.  If  you  have  dabbled 
in  that,  however  remotely,  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  and 


324  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Leverson.  What  you  want  in  that  case  is  a  criminal 
lawyer." 

"I've  already  told  you  I  know  no  more  of  Dupre  than 
you  do.  You  can  take  my  word  or  not,  as  you  please ;  I've 
nothing  else  to  offer." 

There  was  something  about  the  way  she  said  it  that 
made  Whitelaw  believe  her.  The  thought  passed  through 
his  mind  :  "  Then  Doniphan  was  right.  So  much  the  better 
for  me." 

He  had  gained  his  object  most  completely.  She  had  no 
choice  but  to  trust  him.  Whether  she  liked  it  or  not,  he 
held  the  key  to  the  situation.  In  that  same  low,  pained 
voice  she  told  him  what  he  wanted  to  know  of  her  own 
hard  life,  laid  bare  all  its  weakness,  all  its  folly.  It  was 
an  agony  to  her,  yet  it  was  a  relief.  When  she  had  done, 
she  leaned  back  in  her  chair  wearily,  but  there  was  a  sense 
of  weight  lifted  from  aching  shoulders. 

He  was  silent  for  several  minutes  carefully  thinking  it 
over, 

"  You  must  see  now  how  dangerous  it  was  keeping  Jane 
close  to  you  here,"  he  said  at  length.  "What  she  has 
hidden  is  certainly  not  on  her  person  or  you  would  have 
had  it  long  ago.  You  know  you  can't  get  it  out  of  her, 
yet  you  persist  in  risking  this.  Every  moment  she  is  here 
she  is  a  constant  menace.  Once  shut  up  she  is  harmless ; 
she  can  do  nothing." 

"  She  can  talk !  " 

"  To  whom }  To  keepers  and  attendants  well  used  to 
the  vaporings  of  diseased  minds.  Here  you  have  not  been 
able  to  prevent  her  talking  to  people  much  more  likely 
to  see  some  undercurrent  of  sanity  in  what  she  says. 
The  woman  Celeste  already  suspects.  If  Margaret  Lev- 
erson had  the  same  kind  of  a  disposition,  that  chance 
meeting  this  morning  might  have  been  fatal." 

His  voice  hardened  as  he  mentioned    Mrs.  Leverson's 


WHITELAW  IS  PUT  IN  HIS  PROPER  PLACE     325 

name.  He  began  almost  to  feel  he  had  wiped  out  the 
disgrace  of  the  morning.  Miss  Laurie's  mind,  however, 
wandered  from  the  subject  in  hand. 

"  But  if  this  man  dies  ^ "  she  asked  in  a  voice  that  was 
almost  eager. 

Whitelaw  looked  at  her  with  a  feeling  of  contempt.  At 
the  moment  he  felt  himself  on  quite  a  different  moral  plain 
from  this  poor  old  woman  who  had  sinned  so  palpably  and 
so  unsuccessfully. 

"  In  that  case  we  shall  have  very  little  to  do.  Put  Jane 
in  a  place  of  safety,  and  follow  out  any  clews  we  have  for 
the  recovery  of  the  papers.  You  say  you  believe  they're 
hidden  here .'' " 

Miss  Laurie  nodded.  Whitelaw  instinctively  glanced 
around  the  room.  "  I  must  try  my  hand  with  her,"  he 
said  thoughtfully.  "  I  don't  expect  success,  but  I  may  as 
well  try.     May  I  see  her  now } " 

Without  verbal  answer  Miss  Laurie  opened  the  door 
and  led  the  way  upstairs. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   COLONEL   AND   WHITELAW   CHANT   THE   REQUIEM   OF    A 
RESPECTABLE   CORPORATION 

"I  TELL  you  I'm  getting  very  tired  of  this." 

If  this  remonstrance  was  deUvered  by  the  Colonel  with 
more  than  his  usual  warmth,  the  weather  may  have  had 
something  to  do  with  that.  The  office  thermometer  on  its 
rusty  nail  by  the  window  registered  ninety-two  degrees, 
even  in  the  Board  Room  of  the  Leverson  Car  Company 
on  the  shady  side  of  the  street.  The  Colonel  stopped 
paring  his  nails  to  glance  across  the  table  at  Randal 
Whitelaw,  who  responded  with  more  than  his  usual  sym- 
pathy. 

"So  am  I." 

"Of  course,  as  he's  signed  the  final  agreement  and  in- 
dorsed his  stock,  we  can  put  the  thing  through,"  the 
Colonel  admitted  magnanimously,  as  he  returned  to  his 
finger-tips;  "but  the  absence  of  the  principal  party  in 
interest  doesn't  look  well,  Whitelaw ;  creates  gossip,  don't 
you  know,  at  the  very  moment  when  everything  should 
be  running  on  greased  wheels." 

Whitelaw  nodded.  "  The  same  thing  has  occurred  to 
me,"  he  said. 

"  Here  I've  been  up  since  five  o'clock  this  morning,"  the 
Colonel  went  on,  "  and  cut  an  important  conference  in 
Harrisburg  in  order  to  be  here  two  hours  ahead  of  the 
meeting,  because  I  wanted  to  talk  over  the  latest  develop- 
ments in  a  friendly  way,  before  we  take  the  final  plunge 

326 


CHANTING  THE  REQUIEM  32/ 

as  it  were,  and  I  find  Leverson  gone,  no  one  knows  where. 
That's  all  the  thanks  I  get  for  slaving  night  and  day  these 
last  three  months  in  the  interests  of  my  ungrateful  son-in- 
law.  The  fact  is  I've  made  him  so  dead  sure  of  his  profits 
that  he's  not  likely  to  turn  up  till  he  thinks  it's  time  to  rake 
them  in.  I'm  by  no  means  certain  he  won't  expect  us  to  do 
even  that  for  him." 

The  Board  Room  of  the  Leverson  Company  had  already 
some  suggestion  about  it  of  the  solemn  occasion,  which  had 
drawn  these  two  gentlemen  together,  for  the  day  was  that 
fifteenth  of  July,  which,  according  to  schedule,  was  to 
see  the  demise  of  that  respectable  concern.  Though  the 
Board  Room  table  was  littered  wfth  nothing  more  formi- 
dable than  a  few  stock  books,  several  bundles  of  papers,  and 
a  volume  of  "White  on  Corporations,"  there  was  a  certain 
expectancy  in  the  faces  of  the  men  on  either  side  of  it 
which  might  have  been  there  had  the  Company  been  actu- 
ally lying  in  state  awaiting  its  obsequies. 

It  was,  however,  still  so  early  that  Tatlock,  the  office  boy, 
occasionally  flitted  in  and  out  on  pretence  of  dusting  the 
unoccupied  chairs  and  tables,  though  he  was  principally 
interested  in  following  the  conversation.  Until  summarily 
dismissed  by  Whitelaw,  he  showed  much  activity  with  a 
decayed  feather  duster,  which  left  a  large  part  of  its 
plumage  behind  it  as  the  only  indication  that  it  had 
ever  been  there.  In  the  same  way  Tatlock  had  tried  to 
leave  some  of  his  inherent  cheerfulness  behind  him,  on  his 
retirement  to  the  back  office,  though  therein  he  had  sig- 
nally failed.  The  atmosphere  of  the  Board  Room,  at  the 
moment,  was  distinctly  gloomy, 

"  If  it  ever  comes  to  raking  in,"  Whitelaw  was  saying  as 
the  door  closed  upon  the  boy,  "  I  shall  be  willing  to  do 
more  than  my  share,  but  in  the  meantime,  I  admit  I  should 
like  to  see  Leverson.  But  you  were  speaking  of  new 
developments;  may  I  ask  what  they  are?" 


328  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  important.  To  put  my  best  foot 
foremost,  as  I  always  do,  I  have  it  on  pretty  good  authority 
that  Higgins  is  short  ten  thousand  shares  of  ConsoHdated 
Car  at  one-forty-five." 

The  gloom  on  Whitelaw's  pale  and  worn  face  did  not 
lessen  at  this  piece  of  information. 

"  I  may  be  stupid,"  he  remarked  with  rather  dangerous 
politeness ;  "  but  in  view  of  your  repeated  assertions  that 
this  man  controls  the  sale  of  our  new  stock,  I  hardly  see 
why  we  are  to  be  congratulated  on  that  development." 

"Well,  only  that  we  ought  to  be  able  to  force  him 
to  cover  at  one-seventy  an  extra  thirty-five  points  clear 
profit  for  Leverson  and  —  the  rest  of  us,"  the  Colonel  put 
in  cheerfully. 

"  I  see ;  you  mean  his  having  done  this  turns  the  con- 
trol of  the  market  over  to  us,  at  least  for  a  limited  period," 
Whitelaw  remarked  thoughtfully. 

The  Colonel  nodded.  "  Why,  naturally.  When  three 
months  ago  I  told  Leverson  that  Higgins  controlled  the 
situation,  I  was  perfectly  sincere.  He  did.  But  that  was 
before  he  put  himself  in  this  hole.  As  he  took  the  step 
without  consulting  me,  he  can  hardly  complain  if  I  do  not 
especially  exert  myself  to  get  him  out  again.  Inside  of 
three  months  he  must  have  that  ten  thousand  shares. 
Every  share  of  the  Consolidated  is  already  placed,  and  I 
know  the  men  who  hold  them.  I've  been  along  the  line 
and  have  felt  the  pulse  of  every  one  of  them.  They  stand 
as  firm  as  a  rock.  Higgins's  own  allotment  is  a  bare  three 
thousand.  To  get  the  other  seven,  he  has  got  to  bid  in  the 
open  market.  You  ought  to  know  what  that  means.  He 
can't  get  them  from  our  pool  under  one-seventy.  Some  of 
us  are  inclined  to  stand  out  for  more,"  the  Colonel  ended 
with  perfect  satisfaction. 

"  You  mean  you  are,"  Whitelaw  remarked  without  en- 
thusiasm,    "That's  what  I  don't   like  about  it.     There's 


CHANTING  THE   REQUIEM  329 

always  a  point  in  matters  of  this  kind  where,  in  ordinary 
prudence,  one  has  got  to  stop  and  be  satisfied.  To  be 
brutally  frank,  Gilbreed,  the  trouble  with  you  has  always 
been  that  you  never  knew  when  to  stop,  and  have  never 
yet  been  satisfied.  It's  the  rock  on  which  every  one  of 
your  well-laid  schemes  has  gone  to  pieces  until  now. 
Two  years  ago  you  lost  some  fifty  thousand  dollars  for 
Leverson  in  the  same  way  and  for  the  same  reason. 
That  was  a  matter  exclusively  between  you  two.  This 
isn't.  My  fortune  is  tied  up  in  this  thing,  and  I  mean  to 
see  it  closed  at  the  right  moment,  whether  you  are  ready 
or  not.  You  may  be  anxious  to  play  a  dangerous  game 
with  a  man  like  Higgins,  for  the  sake  of  winning  an  extra 
profit,  but  you  can't  do  so  without  Leverson's  aid,  and  you 
can't  have  that  without  I  say  so.  He  will  follow  my  lead 
if  it  comes  to  a  break  between  us,  because  I  have  made 
and  you  have  lost  a  good  deal  of  money  for  him  in 
times  past.  To  me  your  beating  Higgins  in  this  latest 
move  would  be  hardly  better  than  being  beaten.  On 
the  chance  of  winning  a  beggarly  profit,  and  Higgins's 
undying  enmity,  you  risk  landing  us  all  in  a  common 
ruin.  I  am  so  impressed  with  this  that  I  shall,  if  neces- 
sary, adjourn  this  meeting  until  I  consult  with  Leverson. 
With  one  or  two  proxies  I've  been  careful  to  get,  I'm  in 
absolute  control." 

There  had  been  a  moment  or  two  during  Whitelaw's 
impressive  remarks  when  the  Colonel  had  flushed  slightly; 
at  that  reference  to  certain  past  misfortunes  an  expression 
very  closely  akin  to  enmity  had  settled  into  the  lines  of 
his  thin  face ;  but  before  the  lawyer  had  finished  summing 
up  the  strength  of  his  own  position,  the  Colonel  was  again 
smiling  at  him  with  unalloyed  friendship. 

•'  My  dear  Randal,"  he  remarked  pleasantly,  "  if  you  are 
trying  to  make  an  enemy  of  me,  I  decHne  the  part.  I  may 
as  well  say  that  if  you  vote  for  an  adjournment,  I  shall  vote 


330  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

with  you.  The  preliminary  contract  has  yet  thirty  days  to 
run,  and  before  then  I  think  you  will  be  satisfied  that  my 
judgment  in  this  matter  is  not  at  fault.  If  by  that  time 
you  and  Leverson  consider  Higgins's  friendship  worth 
more  than  what  you  call  a  beggarly  profit  of  some  two 
hundred  thousand  dollars,  I  am  perfectly  ready  to  join 
with  you  in  buying  it  at  that  figure ;  but  you  must  remem- 
ber that  in  order  to  make  his  profit  he  has  got  to  depress 
the  price  below  one-forty-five,  and  that  every  dollar  that  he 
makes  must  of  necessity  come  out  of  us.  I  caught  on  to 
his  little  game  the  moment  the  stock  opened  wide  on  the 
Philadelphia  curb  at  one-fifty  to  one-sixty-five,  and  dropped 
to  one-thirty  on  inside  selling." 

It  was  not  often  that  the  Colonel,  or  any  one  else,  suc- 
ceeded in  surprising  Whitelaw ;  but  he  had  accomplished 
that  feat  now  with  apparent  ease.  For  the  first  time,  per- 
haps, the  lawyer  realized  that  when  threading  the  intrica- 
cies of  stock-market  manipulation  he  was  a  puling  infant 
compared  with  the  sharp-faced,  alert  man  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table.  Whitelaw's  face  was  transparently  anx- 
ious now,  and  was  not  less  haggard  for  being  suffused  with 
a  deep  color. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  demanded,  "  that  the  new 
stock  is  already  quoted  }  " 

"  Why,  of  course.  Has  been  for  a  week  past  on  the 
Philadelphia  and  New  York  curb  —  '  If  and  when  issued,' 
you  know." 

"  Then  why  in  the  name  of  common  sense  didn't  you 
cover  ?  " 

The  Colonel  began  to  look  bored. 

"  I  should  think  you  might  see  several  excellent  reasons. 
To  begin  with,  I  should  have  broken  the  market,  and  with 
it  my  promise  to  you  and  Leverson.  If  Higgins's  seUing 
knocked  it  down  twenty  points,  what  would  have  been  the 
result  of  my  putting  out  sixty  thousand  shares  ?    It  isn't  like 


CHANTING  THE   REQUIEM  33 1 

you,  Randal,  to  be  so  beastly  nervous;  and  now  of  all  times 
when,  if  we  only  have  the  sense  to  hold  on,  we  stand  for 
a  certain  success  ten  times  more  brilliant  than  a  few  days 
back  we'd  any  reason  to  hope  for.  It's  precious  lucky  for 
you  and  Leverson  that  I,  at  least,  am  able  to  keep  cool." 

"  There  may  be  such  a  thing  as  keeping  too  cool,"  White- 
law  retorted,  his  eyes  still  angry ;  "  this  frigidity  between 
us  and  Higgins  may  end  in  freezing  us  out  before  he's 
through  with  us." 

The  Colonel  looked  at  his  dissatisfied  coadjutor  with 
mild  surprise.  "  My  dear  fellow,"  he  remarked  pleasantly, 
"  you  speak  as  if  his  antagonism  were  of  my  choosing, 
which  is  the  opposite  of  the  truth.  He  himself  deliber- 
ately chose  it,  and  having  done  so  I  fail  to  see  how  you 
can  harmonize  his  interests  with  ours.  Your  trying  to  do 
so  is  the  one  thing  that  can  bring  failure  to  our  side.  You 
and  Leverson  certainly  cannot  complain  if  I  fail  to  fulfil 
my  promise  to  see  you  out  at  one-forty-five  if  you  join 
forces  with  a  man  who  has  gone  short  ten  thousand  shares 
at  that  figure.  As  it  stands,  the  situation  is  completely 
reversed  from  what  it  was  ten  days  ago.  Higgins's  friend- 
ship now  means  our  ruin ;  his  enmity  makes  our  position 
absolutely  certain.  The  beauty  of  the  Consolidated  con- 
cern is  that  it's  so  entirely  clean  and  above  board.  Not  a 
dollar  of  treasury  stock —  nothing  held  back  to  be  sprung 
at  you  unexpectedly  at  the  last  moment.  Everything's 
paid  up  in  money  or  property.  But  you've  had  copies  of 
the  articles  of  incorporation  and  the  prospectus  these  last 
two  months,  so  you  know  quite  as  much  as  I  do." 

There  were  things  about  it  which  Randal  Whitelaw 
thought  he  knew  a  great  deal  better,  but  he  refrained  from 
saying  so.  An  intense  disgust  with  the  work  he  had  to 
do  had  surged  over  him  as  he  sat  there  listening  to  the 
Colonel's  prattle.  Nevertheless  he  had  evidently  followed 
his  argument,  for  he  answered  carefully  :  — 


332  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  As  we  are  long  some  sixty  thousand  shares,  it  would 
be  perfectly  possible  for  us  to  make  some  concession  to 
Higgins  on  the  seven  thousand  he  requires." 

The  Colonel  laughed  outright. 

"  If  you  make  that  move,"  he  remarked,  "  Higgins  would, 
of  course,  want  iifty  thousand.  It  would  be  a  bald  con- 
fession on  our  part  that  he  had  us  at  his  mercy." 

"  Hardly ;  if  we  did  not  concede  too  much,  and  demanded 
some  concession  in  return,  such,  for  instance,  as  his  vote 
and  influence  on  the  Consolidated  Board.  His  position 
there  is,  as  of  course  you  know,  out  of  all  proportion  to  his 
holdings.  I  understand  he's  to  be  put  at  the  head  of  the 
Pennsylvania  plants.  He  may  have  a  good  deal  to  do 
with  these  rumored  labor  troubles." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  the  Colonel  admitted  frankly.  •*  Let's 
see ;  the  new  Leverson  scale  is  usually  negotiated  in  the 
spring  and  goes  into  effect  in  September.  We  didn't 
negotiate  this  year  for  obvious  reasons.  We  left  that  to 
the  new  Company  as  part  of  its  heritage.  Now  we're 
some  ten  per  cent  above  the  other  plants,  and  of  course 
they  intend  a  uniform  scale  at  the  lower  level.  This  snarl 
was  bound  to  come  in  any  case,  but  it  would  not  have 
come  quite  so  soon  if  it  hadn't  been  in  the  Higgins  in- 
terest." 

"  I  should  certainly  call  that  disquieting  enough,"  White- 
law  broke  in  with  increased  impatience.  "We've  been 
banking  on  the  certainty  that  we  could  transfer  our  labor 
contract,  which  has  still  two  months  to  run.  That  would 
have  easily  covered  our  getting  out." 

"Just  so;  I  myself  shared  that  hope,"  the  Colonel  said 
with  his  habitual  frankness.  "  But  you  mustn't  put  all 
the  blame  on  Higgins.  The  local  Union  got  wind  of 
the  matter  and  forced  his  hand.  Their  Governing  Board 
were,  it  seems,  not  at  all  satisfied  with  our  explanation  of 
the  postponement.      Either  through  Doniphan,  Thallon, 


CHANTING  THE  REQUIEM  333 

or  Mclntyre  they  learned  what  had  passed  at  our  last 
Directors'  Meeting,  and  they  drew  their  own  conclusions. 
It  has  occurred  to  me  that  may  have  had  something  to  do 
with  Doniphan's  and  Thallon's  being  down  at  the  Corners 
last  Sunday  night,  though  the  Union  had  previously  put 
in  their  claim  that  our  contract  with  them  is  not  transferable 
in  its  present  shape,  because  it  provides  for  this  renewal  in 
the  spring  which  we've  allowed  to  lapse.  What  they  de- 
mand now  is  a  renewal  with  us  before  our  transfer,  which 
would  tie  up  the  new  Company  at  the  old  figures  for  an- 
other year,  all  of  which  places  us  between  the  devil  and 
the  deep  sea." 

"  Our  agreement  with  the  Consolidated  does  not  prevent 
our  doing  that,"  Whitelaw  remarked  thoughtfully. 

"No;  but  it  would  not  pay,  because  it  would  antagonize 
several  other  people  more  important  than  Higgins.  We 
who  are  on  the  long  side  of  the  market  can't  ask  the  new 
concern  to  carry  too  heavy  a  load.  My  idea  is  to  work 
the  thing  here  before  the  transfer,  so  there'll  be  no  hitch,  no 
wrangle.     I'm  very  anxious  to  avoid  that  if  possible." 

Whitelaw  had  risen  and  walked  over  to  the  telephone. 
He  had  not  been  following  the  Colonel's  argument  very 
closely.  He  was  busy  calling  up  the  office  of  Dr. 
Theodore  Lindley,  M.D.,  and  had  just  caught  Mrs.  Lindley 
at  the  other  end  of  the  wire,  —  a  disappointing  strike,  for 
Mrs.  Lindley,  always  more  or  less  incoherent,  was  never 
more  so  than  when  conversing  by  telephone.  Nevertheless, 
he  managed  to  glean  the  information  he  wanted.  The 
Doctor  had  cut  his  office  hours  to  run  over  the  hospital 
where  Owen  Thallon  was  reported  very  low.  Death,  the 
little  woman  assured  him,  was  only  a  question  of  hours, 
perhaps  minutes,  at  which  point  Mrs.  Lindley  became 
tearful  and  entirely  beyond  comprehension. 

The  cracked  voice  of  the  receiver  seemed  to  be  sobbing 
into  his  left  ear  as  Whitelaw  put  it  hastily  back  in  its  place. 


334  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

For  an  instant  it  crossed  his  mind  to  call  up  the  hospital, 
but  why  should  Stephenson's  report  be  any  more  reliable 
than  the  one  he  had  already  ?  He  had  got  to  take  some 
chances,  and  time  pressed.  He  glanced  at  the  clock ;  it 
marked  a  quarter  past  the  hour.  In  another  fifteen  minutes 
he  must  call  the  Meeting  to  order  with  a  mind  made  up  with- 
out shadow  of  turning.  He  walked  back  to  his  chair, 
the  lines  of  his  face  hardening.  There  was  the  sound  of 
approaching  feet  on  the  stairs  outside. 

"  I  shall  put  this  thing  through,"  he  said,  answering  the 
Colonel's  look  of  inquiry.  "  If  it  comes  to  a  question  of 
urgency,  Slathers  and  Farrell  must  be  brought  up,  that's 
all.     It  won't  be  the  first  time  it's  been  done." 

"And  not  at  all  expensive,"  the  Colonel  added  smil- 
ingly. "  Here  come  the  outsiders.  Try  to  look  cheerful, 
for  Heaven's  sake.  A  minute  ago  your  face  was  enough 
to  swamp  the  credit  of  the  Bank  of  England." 

Before  the  Colonel  had  fairly  finished,  the  hall  door 
was  swung  back  by  Tatlock,  who  held  it  open  for  the  en- 
trance of  three  nondescript  individuals,  the  happy  or  un- 
happy possessors  of  several  hundred  shares  of  the  Leverson 
stock.  To  Whitelaw,  who  rose  to  greet  them  in  a  manner 
more  or  less  traceable  to  the  Colonel's  late  injunction,  these 
three  merely  represented  so  many  overdrafts  of  the  Lever- 
son  income. 

Judge  Streeter  of  Harrisburg,  a  florid-faced,  stout  little 
party,  at  the  moment  in  a  profuse  perspiration  and  very 
much  out  of  breath,  must  have  had  concealed  about  his 
cherubic  person  some  two  hundred  and  fifty  shares,  the 
price  of  which  had  bought  the  Firefly  two  years  before. 

As  the  most  exhausted  as  well  as  the  most  important 
member  of  the  triumvirate,  Whitelaw  got  the  Judge  into  a 
chair,  and  sent  Tatlock  for  a  palm-leaf  fan.  Mr.  Hillery, 
a  retired  grocer  of  Brockton  and  a  Methodist  deacon  into 
the  bargain,  looked  suspicious  and  evil-minded.    Whitelaw 


CHANTING  THE  REQUIEM  335 

paid  less  attention  to  him  as  he  only  held  fifty  shares,  which 
had  helped  furnish  Leverson's  stable,  though,  of  course, 
Hillery  was  not  acquainted  with  the  fact.  Wainwright, 
the  third  man,  also  of  local  residence,  stood  for  one  hun- 
dred shares  which  had  straightened  out  Leverson  on  the 
books  of  Whitelaw  &  Co.  up  to  the  first  of  the  previous 
May.  He  was  a  small,  eager  man,  who  had  no  confidence 
in  Whitelaw,  and  was  guaranteed  to  follow  the  Judge's  lead 
in  everything. 

Still  in  the  doorway  behind  these  three  stood  the  ob- 
sequious Mclntyre,  who  had  been  ordered  for  ten-thirty 
sharp.  As  it  yet  lacked  five  minutes  of  it,  he  did  not 
dare  to  come  in. 

"  Where's  Mr.  Leverson  ? "  the  Judge  demanded,  allow- 
ing a  pair  of  bulgy  eyes  to  rove  freely  about  the  room 
as  if  he  suspected  Whitelaw  of  concealing  the  President 
behind  one  of  the  safes. 

"  Detained  in  town,  unfortunately,"  the  Colonel  hastened 
to  say,  conscious  that  at  anything  of  this  kind  he  was 
much  more  expert  than  Whitelaw,  who,  after  motioning 
to  Mclntyre  to  come  in  and  shut  the  door,  had  relapsed 
into  his  usual  chilliness.  "  Not  that  it  matters  a  great 
deal,.  We've  got  his  instructions,  and  of  course  our 
work's  all  cut  out  for  us.  The  deal's  to  go  through; 
Whitelaw's  got  a  clear  majority.  You  have  our  circular, 
I  suppose .'' " 

"  Yes  ;  and  it's  remarkably  pretty  reading,  but  it  doesn't 
say  what  I'm  to  get  for  my  stock  —  in  cash,  I  mean." 

The  Judge's  ardent  following  murmured  its  approbation 
of  this  demand.     The  Colonel  looked  amused. 

"  Naturally,  the  Leverson  Company,  not  being  a  stock- 
broker's concern,  could  hardly  undertake  to  market  your 
stock,  they  merely  announced  the  conditions  of  the  deal, 
two  shares  for  one.  You  got  your  present  holdings,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  at  about  fifty.     I  don't  mind  offering 


336  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

you  sixty  down  for  them.  If  you  want  me  to  make  a  hun- 
dred per  cent,  I'm  willing." 

Whitelaw,  who  had  been  watching  the  clock,  roused 
himself  at  this  point.  He  had  a  distinct  objection  to 
any  further  complications  brought  on  by  the  Colonel's 
propensity  to  play  with  side  issues.  The  fact  that  his 
offer  was  some  fifteen  points  lower  than  the  one  he  had 
made  Doniphan  three  months  before,  might  or  might  not 
have  some  significance.  It  might  mean  that  he  was  a 
trifle  less  enthusiastic  than  he  had  been  then.  But  White- 
law's  own  purpose  was  merely  to  get  this  part  of  the  busi- 
ness over  as  soon  as  possible.  He  could  hardly  afford  to 
allow  the  Colonel  to  fish  for  pennies — besides,  it  struck  him 
as  distinctly  contemptible  under  the  circumstances. 

"I  understand  that  the  last  quotation  for  the  Consolidated 
was  one  hundred  and  thirty,"  he  remarked  carelessly;  "  that 
would  be  two  hundred  and  sixty  for  the  Leverson." 

"  No,  no,  Randal,  not  the  last,"  the  Colonel  corrected 
affectionately.  "  That  was  day  before  yesterday.  I  under- 
stand it  closed  last  night  at  par." 

"Well,  then,  of  course  I'll  hold  for  the  market,"  the 
Judge  said,  puffing  hard. 

Whitelaw  called  the  Meeting  to  order  at  once  to  keep 
the  Colonel  from  laughing.  Even  Mclntyre,  when  he 
started  to  read  the  minutes  of  the  previous  Stockholders' 
Meeting,  had  to  clear  his  throat. 

The  outside  interests  present  attributed  any  observable 
hilarity  to  the  certainty  of  the  forthcoming  profits,  and, 
as  had  been  intended,  the  subsequent  proceedings  went 
through  with  a  rush. 

The  Judge  asked  to  see  nothing  but  the  original  contract, 
which,  like  the  Colonel's  argument,  proved  so  flawless  that 
he  ended  by  being  in  exceedingly  high  spirits  himself. 

Even  the  Deacon  smiled  broadly  ;  Wainwright  was  only 
too  anxious  to  vote.  That  the  vote  when  counted  was 
found  to  be  unanimous,  goes  without  saying. 


CHANTING  THE  REQUIEM  337 

By  eleven  o'clock  the  thing  was  done.  The  three  out- 
siders had  handed  in  their  certificates  of  stock  and  departed 
in  great  good-fellowship,  loud  in  their  praises  of  the  Colo- 
nel's level-headedness  and  the  advantages  to  be  derived 
from  the  proper  handling  of  securities. 

After  they  had  gone,  and  Whitelaw  had  despatched 
Mclntyre  to  the  office  of  the  Standard  with  the  formal 
announcement  of  the  merger  long  awaited  by  an  impa- 
tient public,  he  sat  there,  a  little  pile  of  the  lately  turned-in 
securities  on  the  table  before  him.  Whitelaw  was  think- 
ing how  they,  together  with  the  great  Leverson  holdings, 
were  shortly  to  be  exchanged  for  a  bundle  of  beauti- 
fully engraved  waste  paper.  In  view  of  the  news  he  had 
gleaned  an  hour  before  on  the  telephone,  it  seemed  well- 
nigh  shameful  to  make  the  trade.  These  crisp  certificates 
which  bore  the  seal  of  the  Leverson  concern  had  an  actual 
intrinsic  value.  It  was  not  necessary  to  quote  them  on 
the  curb.  Every  intelligent  man  in  Brockton  knew  what 
they  were  worth.  Whitelaw  caught  the  Colonel's  eye  as 
he  looked  up,  and  surprised  an  expression  in  it  not  unlike 
his  own. 

"  Do  you  wonder  that  idiots  like  that  are  fleeced  every 
day  and  get  no  sympathy  —  and  deserve  none } "  he 
demanded  with  an  outburst  of  his  cynical  humor. 

The  Colonel,  however,  refused  to  follow  the  lead.  He 
would  have  gone  to  pieces  years  before  if  he  had  ever  ad- 
mitted to  himself  any  lack  of  purity  in  his  own  motives. 

"I  fail  to  catch  your  meaning,"  he  returned  stiffly. 
"  They  are  in  exactly  the  same  boat  we  are,  and  have  even 
a  better  chance  of  reaching  land.  They're  tied  by  no  un- 
derstanding even  between  themselves.  T/tejy  can  get  out 
whenever  they  want  to." 

**  What  a  world  this  is  ! "  the  other  man  said  to  himself ; 
"  even  Mortimer  Gilbreed  and  I  have  a  sense  of  honor  left 
after  this  day's  work." 


338  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  There  hasn't  been  any  hitch  about  the  Leverson  title, 
has  there  ? "  the  Colonel  asked,  with  apparent  irrelevance. 

Whitelaw  started  slightly. 

"Why,  no;  I  satisfied  Wagstaff,  their  Corporation  Coun- 
sel, on  that  some  time  since.  He's  seen  a  certified  copy 
of  Ashton's  deed  to  our  Company,  and  the  necessary  affi- 
davit from  Ashton  as  to  John  Leverson's  dying  intestate 
and  his  being  next  of  kin.     They  asked  for  nothing  more." 

"  I'd  an  idea  they  might  fuss  about  its  being  a  collat- 
eral inheritance,"  the  Colonel  nodded.  "  I've  known 
lesser  things  than  that  to  make  trouble,  Whitelaw.  Now  I 
suppose  nine  out  of  ten  men  in  Brockton  would  tell  you  the 
Leversons  have  lived  here  since  the  town  was  founded,  — 
John  Leverson  was  so  identified  with  the  place,  —  yet  if  you 
take  to  jotting  down  dates,  he  doesn't  go  farther  back  than 
1865  ;  was,  in  fact,  a  bit  of  the  drift  left  by  the  disbanded 
army  at  the  end  of  the  war.    Odd  to  think  of,  now,  isn't  it  ?  " 

It  was  so  very  odd  to  think  of  that  Whitelaw  seemed 
disinclined  to  think  of  it  at  all. 

"  The  Consolidated  Car  Company  doesn't  take  things  on 
faith,"  he  remarked  sententiously,  "  and  it's  not  kicking." 

"Which  being  so,"  the  Colonel  laughed,  "leaves  us 
with  nothing  to  smooth  out  but  this  labor  snarl.  I'd  better 
look  into  that  right  off,  for  I've  got  to  be  back  in  Harris- 
burg  early  this  afternoon.  Slathers  and  Farrell  we  can 
count  on,  as  you  say,  for  a  consideration.  You  know  the 
skilled  machinists  are  more  or  less  under  Doniphan's  in- 
fluence and  can't  be  approached ;  but  there's  another  ele- 
ment which  has  come  to  the  front  lately  —  a  Workman's 
Brotherhood,  or  whatever  they  call  it,  which  they  say's  made 
enormous  strides  within  the  last  few  months.  It's  one  of 
those  half-religious  things  which  are  hard  to  fathom.  It's 
separate  from  the  regular  Union,  but  they  work  in  together 
more  or  less  in  harmony.  Its  brains  and  lungs  seem  to  be 
in  this  man  Meyer.     Do  you  know  anything  about  him  .-* " 


CHANTING  THE  REQUIEM  339 

"  Not  the  least  thing  in  the  world,"  Whitelaw  replied 
indifferently. 

"  Well,  I  reckon  I'd  better  see  him  first,"  the  Colonel 
said  thoughtfully.  "  They  say  his  influence  with  his  own 
crowd  is  something  wonderful ;  and  if  we  can  swing  him 
together  with  the  corruptionists,  we've  wiped  off  that  little 
bit  of  friction." 

"  He  ought  to  be  able  to  make  them  stand  by  their 
present  contract,  at  least,"  Whitelaw  acquiesced. 

"Yes;  but  that  isn't  quite  enough.  I've  got  the  other 
side  to  promise  they'll  accept  a  year  at  the  new  scale,  and 
it  will  be  a  great  deal  better  all  round  if  we  can  force  that 
much  of  a  concession  from  the  men.  I  should  be  sure  of 
success  if  these  labor  leaders  hadn't  got  hold  of  the 
impression  that  we're  making  something  handsome  out  of 
the  merger.  Naturally,  if  they  once  think  they  can  block 
it,  they'll  want  to  divvy  with  us.  If  we  can  only  make 
them  understand  that  our  profits  are  secure  anyway,  they 
won't  be  so  unreasonable.  I  think  I'm  all  right  with 
Slathers.  He  has  reason  to  cultivate  my  friendship  on 
some  other  accounts,  but  this  other  man's  entirely  new 
ground.  Then  after  I'm  through  with  him  I  must  run 
down  Leverson.  Don't  you  suppose  Margaret  knows 
where  he  is } " 

Whitelaw,  at  the  moment,  seemed  absorbed  in  sorting 
and  filing  his  certificates. 

"  I'm  not  in  Mrs.  Leverson's  confidence,"  he  observed 
without  looking  up.  "  The  only  information  she  chose  to 
give  me  was  that  he'd  gone  yachting.  I  wish  you  success 
with  your  street  Preacher.  Wire  me  result  by  usual  code 
when  you  get  to  Harrisburg.     Good  luck  to  you  !  " 

The  Colonel  had  only  got  as  far  as  the  hall  door,  when, 
being  opened  inwards  with  much  energy  by  some  one  on 
the  outside,  it  nearly  knocked  him  over.  The  intruder 
apologized,  though  without  unnecessary  profusion.     It  was 


340  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Doniphan,  physically  much  heated,  but  otherwise  cool 
enough  to  be  aggravating. 

"  I  called  to  see  Leverson,"  he  remarked  without  preface 
as  he  glanced  about  the  room ;  "  where  is  he  ? " 

"That's  exactly  what  we'd  like  to  know,"  Whitelaw 
remarked   from   over   his   papers. 

"  Humph  !     Wasn't  he  at  the  Meeting  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  you  mustn't  think  he's  gone  back  on  the  deal," 
the  Colonel  put  in  hastily,  with  a  warning  eye  on  Whitelaw. 
"  We  put  that  through  just  now  with  flying  colors.  I  shall 
never  cease  to  regret,  Doniphan,  that  you're  not  in  it." 

"  That's  so  like  you,"  Mobray  murmured.  "  Well,  I 
didn't  come  to  ask  him  to  make  my  fortune  for  me,  though 
I've  a  request  to  make  he  may  not  like  much  better.  By 
the  way,  Gilbreed,  if  you're  moving  along,  I'll  join  you  for 
a  square  or  two.     I've  something  to  say  to  you." 

"  Come  along.  I've  got  to  stop  at  my  office  a  minute," 
the  Colonel  replied  genially.  "Any  news  about  that  rascal 
Dupr^  ?  "  he  added  as  they  turned  to  go. 

"  Taken  this  morning  in  Harrisburg.  On  his  way  here 
now." 

Whitelaw  rose  and  came  toward  the  door  with  them. 
The  mention  of  Dupre  seemed  at  last  to  have  aroused 
some  interest  in  him. 

"  That  means  hanging  as  things  have  turned  out,"  he 
said,  with  a  note  of  inquiry  under  the  assertion. 

Doniphan  paused  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  to  answer  him. 

"Well,  we  can  hardly  say  that  yet.  I  stopped  at  the 
hospital  on  my  way  here.  Thallon's  holding  his  own. 
Lindley  says  if  he  pulls  through  to-day,  he'll  get  well." 

As  he  looked  back  at  him  over  his  shoulder  it  struck 
Doniphan  how  haggard  Whitelaw  had  grown  within  the 
last  few  weeks  ;  but  he  had  no  sentiment  to  waste  just 
then  on  anybody,  least  of  all  on  him. 

"  I  had  it  from  Mrs.  Lindley  less  than  two  hours  ago 


CHANTING  THE   REQUIEM  34 1 

that  he  couldn't  live  through  the  day,"  the  lawyer  said  in 
his  level  voice,  yet  there  was  something  aggressive  in  the 
way  he  said  it. 

"Very  likely;  the  report  was  bad,  and  Mrs.  Lindley,  as 
usual,  a  trifle  emotional  where  her  affections  are  concerned. 
The  boy's  a  great  favorite  at  the  Lindleys'.  He's  rallied 
a  bit  since,  and  things  look  better." 

As  the  other  two  men  went  downstairs,  Whitelaw  turned 
back  into  the  Board  Room  of  the  defunct  Leverson  Com- 
pany. He  glanced  at  the  safe  where  he  had  just  now 
deposited  those  certificates.  Within  the  last  few  minutes 
they  had  again  lost  value  in  his  eyes.  There  was  a  certain 
grim  humor  ixi  the  situation.  Perhaps,  after  all,  they  were 
merely  exchanging  cats  for  dogs.  But  it  was  not  necessary 
to  settle  that  point  now.  He  went  mechanically  to  work, 
putting  away  those  valuable  records  of  this  day's  work  that 
lay  on  the  long  centre-table.  He  glanced  at  the  minute 
book,  where  the  late  proceedings  were  so  carefully  recorded 
in  Mclntyre's  clerkly  hand ;  the  record  duly  signed  at  the 
bottom  in  a  great  illegible  flourish  of  ink  by  the  Secretary 
of  the  Meeting,  Mortimer  Gilbreed,  as  his  last  official  act. 

But  Whitelaw  was  overbusy  just  then  to  waste  time 
weeping  at  the  grave  of  the  Leverson  concern.  He  had 
established  certain  relationships  with  the  Invalid  of  the 
Brockton  General  which  had  best  be  straightened  out. 
There  were  other  things  to  settle  besides  the  Leverson 
Car  Company  if  Thallon  lived. 

He  rang  Tatlock's  bell  and  ordered  a  long  envelope 
with  the  type-written  address  of  "  Mr.  Owen  Thallon, 
Everett  House,  Brockton,"  and  enclosed  in  it  the  care- 
fully resealed  yellow  envelope.  This  package  he  set  aside 
with  several  others  to  be  returned  to  the  safe.  He  felt  as 
he  did  so  that  he  had  carefully  guarded  against  every 
emergency.  If  he  died  to-night,  and  it  were  found  to- 
morrow, it  would  be,  like  many  another  package,  handed 


342  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

unopened  to  its  owner.  Thallon  would  understand,  and 
would  for  that  very  reason  keep  his  own  counsel.  White- 
law's  memory  would  be  much  safer  in  Thallon's  hands 
than  in  Leverson's,  and  in  case  of  his  death  the  money 
did  not  matter.  No  soul-stirred  evangelist  was  ever  more 
conscious  of  the  limits  of  this  world  than  was  the  world- 
worn  Whitelaw  at  that  particular  moment. 

The  rest  of  the  original  papers  he  packed  in  a  small 
hand-bag  to  be  taken  back  to  the  Everett  that  night,  and 
then,  a  clean  two  hours  behind  time,  he  started  in  on  the 
other  correspondence,  working  through  it  hke  some  irre- 
sistible machine,  dictating  letters  faster  than  an  overworked 
Stenographer  could  take  them  down,  and  filing  documents 
faster  than  Tatlock  could  find  their  proper  pigeonholes 
in  the  great  filing-case  which  occupied  one  wall  of  the  pri- 
vate office. 

When  one  o'clock  came  he  left  the  exhausted  Tatlock 
and  Miss  Price  to  clear  up,  and  went  out  to  lunch. 

Now  Tatlock  wanted  his  lunch,  too ;  wanted  it  so  badly 
that  he  hurried  through  the  making  up  of  his  good-sized 
bundle  of  mail  matter,  his  tongue  so  dry  moistening  post- 
age-stamps that  prospective  visions  of  the  flowing  bowl  of 
fellowship  were  a  httle  too  alluring. 

He  got  rid  of  his  bundle  of  letters  at  the  post-office,  and 
sped  on  his  way  to  a  well-known  city  restaurant,  where  the 
Jeunesse  Doric  of  Brockton  dined  daily  and  exchanged 
gossip  and  cigarettes. 

Poor  Tatlock !  Little  did  you  think  during  that  brief 
half-hour  when  you  joined  in  the  light  banter  of  congenial 
spirits  that  within  the  next  four  and  twenty  of  them  you 
would  be  dismissed  from  the  service  of  Whitelaw  &  Co. 
for  gross  carelessness  in  handling  mail.  Tatlock,  Tat- 
lock !  it  will  be  your  first  lesson  in  the  hard,  hard  fact  that 
we  are  often  punished  in  this  world  for  other  people's  sins. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

IN  WHICH  A  FREE-THINKER  AND  AN  EVANGELIST  STRETCH 
THE  colonel's  ELASTIC  TEMPER  TO  THE  BREAKING 
POINT 

"  Our  friend  above  stairs  seems  to  take  an  extraordinary 
interest  in  young  Thallon,"  Doniphan  remarked  casually, 
as  he  and  the  Colonel  turned  down  Main  Street. 

"  Not  nearly  as  much  as  you  do,"  the  Colonel  returned 
with  his  arch  smile. 

"  Oh,  of  course  I  mean  extraordinary  for  him.  He  doesn't 
waste  precious  hours  without  getting  paid  for  it  as  a  rule." 

"  Nobody  does,"  the  Colonel  returned  with  the  least 
possible  significance. 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  Doniphan  ejaculated  with  sud- 
den bitterness,  ignoring  the  personal  application  of  the 
remark.  "  The  bribe  need  not  always  be  in  gold,  but 
every  man  has  his  price,  —  some  favorite  idol  before  which 
you  must  bow  the  knee  if  you  want  the  help  of  the  High 
Priest." 

"  Which  being  so,  why  not  take  the  world  as  you  find 
it  and  bow  judiciously  ?  "  the  Colonel  asked,  laughing. 

"  Not  yet  —  no;  not  for  some  time  yet." 

"Well,  I'm  not  so  independent,"  the  Colonel  chuckled. 
"  I  don't  mind  admitting  I'm  on  my  way  now  to  see  Meyer. 
But  here  we  are  at  my  office.  Come  in  if  you  want  to  talk; 
one  can't  well  discuss  these  things  in  the  street." 

The  Colonel   had   paused   before  the  door  of   a  small 

343 


344  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

detached  building,  which  stood  on  a  corner  of  the  main 
street  opposite  the  Everett.  Over  the  door  a  small  square 
sign  of  black  tin  bore  the  inscription  in  gilt  letters :  — 

M.   GILBREED, 

ATTORNEY  AT   LAW. 

Still  chatting  pleasantly,  the  Colonel  opened  the  door 
with  a  latch  key  and  led  the  way  in.  The  place  was  small 
and  stuffy,  but  cooler  than  the  street  outside.  The  Colo- 
nel opened  a  window,  shoved  a  chair  across  to  Doniphan, 
and,  unlocking  a  very  shabby  desk,  began  fumbling  among 
some  musty  papers,  without  in  the  least  interrupting  his 
flow  of  conversation. 

"  They  tell  me  this  man  Meyer  is  a  new  and  rather 
important  factor  in  the  labor  problem,"  he  went  on  in  his 
most  friendly  tone ;  "but  I'd  rather  have  had  your  help 
than  all  the  rest  of  them  put  together.  And  you  could 
have  helped  us,  Doniphan,  if  you'd  only  chosen  to,"  he 
added  with  something  very  like  an  appeal  in  his  voice. 

Doniphan  had  not  taken  the  proffered  chair,  but  con- 
tinued standing  on  the  farther  side  of  a  small  leather- 
covered  table,  regarding  the  Colonel  gravely. 

"  All  Meyer  and  I  could  do  for  you  there  we've  done 
already,  though  not  at  all  on  your  account,"  he  returned 
quite  unmoved.  "  What  influence  we  have  has  been  used 
to  make  the  men  stand  by  their  contract  while  it  runs,  but 
not  to  renew  it  at  the  lower  figure.  That's  all  we  ever 
asked  of  them ;  that's  all  you've  any  right  to  ask.  It's 
absurd  for  the  Combine  to  insist  on  a  uniform  scale  for  the 
entire  country ;  conditions  here  are  peculiar  and  justify 
the  difference." 

"  That  argument  sounds  odd  from  your  side,"  the  Colo- 
nel laughed  good-naturedly.     "When  this  local  Union  is 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       345 

swallowed  up  by  the  National  Organization,  which  it  will 
be  shortly,  you'll  see  if  they  object  to  a  uniform  scale." 

"  In  other  words,  because  we're  threatened  by  a  worse 
tyranny,  we  should  put  up  with  this  one.  That  may  be 
politics;  but  it's  not  ethics.  I  can  work  against  sharp 
practice  on  either  side  of  the  fence.  Granted  that  the 
great  labor  organizations  are  more  or  less  corrupt,  and 
that  where  they  are  not  corrupt  they  are  usually  stupid, 
that  only  proves  that  they  ought  to  be  reorganized,  not  that 
they  ought  to  be  stamped  out." 

"  And  who  in  Heaven's  name  wants  to  stamp  them  out } 
All  we  ask  of  you,  all  we  want  of  these  fellows,  is  to 
leave  things  in  statu  quo  for  the  next  few  weeks,"  the  Colo- 
nel expostulated,  falling  back  from  the  high  ground  he 
had  taken  an  hour  or  so  before  with  Whitelaw  as  unten- 
able. "  If  they  can  only  be  persuaded  to  issue  no  ultima- 
tum within  that  time,  Leverson  and  I  can  pull  through  all 
right.  You  might  help  us  to  do  that  much,  Doniphan. 
You  know  Leverson's  whole  fortune  is  more  or  less  at 
stake.  If  you  don't  care  about  him  personally,  you  might 
think  a  little  of  Madge." 

For  the  life  of  him  the  Colonel  could  not  understand 
the  expression  which  flitted  across  Doniphan's  face  at  this 
reference  to  the  Colonel's  daughter. 

"I'm  not  at  all  sure,"  he  said  slowly,  his  sharp  eyes 
still  on  the  other  man's  face,  "  I'm  not  at  all  sure  but  that 
the  loss  of  Leverson's  fortune  might  prove  anything  but 
an  unmixed  evil  for  Margaret.  At  any  rate,  it  would  be 
a  catastrophe  full  of  ideal  justice  for  him,  not  to  mention 
several  other  people  who  have  tempted  him  to  gamble 
with  it." 

It  is  just  possible  that  some  of  Cuthbert  Faucon's  words 
still  echoed  disagreeably  in  Doniphan's  ears,  and  that  was 
what  made  him  so  caustic  at  the  moment.  He  was  cer- 
tainly doing   his  best  to  wipe  out  the  Rector's  reproach 


346  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

that  he  had  let  this  Leverson  transaction  go  by  him  without 
rebuke.  There  was  a  gathering  cloud  on  the  other  man's 
face  which  Doniphan  completely  ignored  as  he  went  on. 

"  The  game  you're  playing,  Gilbreed,  isn't  even  square, 
played  as  it  is  on  the  credulity  and  cupidity  of  a  public  no 
more  honest,  but  much  less  intelligent,  than  you  are!  " 

"Oh,  come,"  the  Colonel  put  in  playfully,  "you  know 
you  don't  care  a  brass  farthing,  Doniphan,  about  that  long- 
suffering  public.  My  experience  is  that  the  average  citizen 
knows  enough  to  keep  his  fingers  out  of  the  fire ;  and  if  he 
doesn't,  it's  not  the  province  of  free  government  to  keep 
him  from  getting  scorched." 

"  It's  the  province  of  decent  government  to  suppress 
vice,"  Doniphan  snorted  indignantly,  "  and  that  there  is 
vice  to  suppress  has  been  proved  many  times  already, 
Mortimer  Gilbreed.  Your  being  in  this  business  amply 
proves  it  now.  If  watered  stock  cannot  be  sold,  why  is  it 
issued  .''  Why  is  it  we  have  multi-milHonnaires  made  in  a 
day  without  themselves  knowing  why  or  how  }  Why  is  it 
no  investment  is  safe  except  we  sit  and  watch  it  with  the 
staring  eyes  of  a  gambler .-'  Merely  because  it  is  no  longer 
an  investment,  but  a  lottery  ticket,  and  marked  at  that. 
We  sit  by  and  see  the  contest  for  control,  wondering  which 
side  will  win,  praying  with  all  our  hearts  you  will  because 
you've  got  our  property  in  your  keeping." 

"  You  seem  to  have  taken  precious  good  care  I've  none 
of  jyotir  property  in  my  keeping,"  the  Colonel  remarked 
maliciously. 

"  Quite  right ;  I'm  speaking  merely  for  the  deluded  pub- 
lic, who  don't  know  you  as  I  do.  As  far  as  they're  con- 
cerned, you  hold  the  winning  cards  because  they're  dealt 
to  you  before  the  outsiders  are  invited  to  take  a  hand. 
Your  only  danger  comes  from  a  possible  falling  out  among 
yourselves,  and  this  is  what's  called  nowadays  —  save  the 
mark! — business  enterprise." 


STRETCHING   THE   COLONEL'S   ELASTIC  TEMPER        347 

•'  Now  look  here,"  Gilbreed  broke  in,  a  trifle  less  good- 
naturedly,  "  I  really  can't  give  the  time  to  a  discourse  on 
the  trust  question.  Of  course,  if  the  Combine's  got  a 
capital  of  twenty  million,  it  must  be  wicked.  My  dear 
Doniphan,  such  bosh  as  that  may  be  natural  enough  to  the 
envy,  hatred,  and  malice  of  a  lower  class ;  but  if  you'll 
excuse  me,  it's  not  quite  becoming  in  a  man  of  your  posi- 
tion." 

"  So  glad  you  thought  of  that,"  Doniphan  retorted  with 
a  sneer;  "but  you  needn't  shift  the  argument  on  account 
of  my  envy  of  yoii.  You  know  as  well  as  I  that  this  thing 
is  dangerous,  not  because  it's  big,  but  because  it's  dis- 
honest. I  call  it  robbery,  and  calling  it  that  I'm  by  no 
means  certain  this  beautiful  new  concern  had  not  far 
better  go  smash  while  some  of  its  shares  are  held  inside 
the  family  than  to  wait  until  they  line  the  pockets  of  that 
deluded  public.  The  family  name  wouldn't  be  much 
cleaner,  of  course ;  but  it  might  be  somewhat  less  noto- 
rious." 

Mortimer  Gilbreed's  face,  a  moment  before  so  smiling,  had 
paled  slightly,  and  was  no  longer  smiling.  The  lower  part 
of  it  was  working  nervously,  for  once  beyond  his  control. 

"Is  this  what  you  wished  to  say  to  me.?"  he  asked, 
getting  to  his  feet  and  closing  the  desk  without  turning  to 
face  the  other  man. 

"It's  not  by  any  manner  of  means  all  I've  got  to  say," 
Doniphan  remarked  calmly. 

Mortimer  Gilbreed  had  borne  a  good  deal  from  Mobray 
Doniphan  in  times  past,  not  because  he  liked  him,  but 
because  their  relationship  was  such  he  had  not  felt  he 
could  afford  to  quarrel  with  him.  There  is  a  point,  how- 
ever, with  the  most  prudent  of  men,  where  natural  resent- 
ment outweighs  all  considerations  of  policy.  The  Colonel 
was  painfully  aware  that  his  relations  with  Doniphan  had 
reached  that  point  now.     Beyond  that,  the  other's  merci- 


348  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

less  arraignment  of  his  aims  and  purposes  had  left  the 
Colonel's  inordinate  self-esteem  quite  unscathed.  He  had 
always  estimated  Doniphan  as  a  meddlesome  crank,  whose 
opinions  on  public  or  private  poHcy  were  the  net  product 
of  intense  ignorance  and  a  desire  for  notoriety.  His  con- 
tempt for  him  was  not  in  the  least  lessened  by  this  latest 
exhibition  of  bad  manners,  but  contempt  for  another's 
opinions  may  be  quite  compatible  with  a  lively  objection 
to  being  called  a  cheat  and  a  scoundrel.  Therefore,  though 
he  condescended  to  make  no  defence  of  his  own  position, 
he  was  very  far  from  intending  to  let  the  other  man's 
words  go  unanswered.  He  was  quite  capable  of  answer- 
ing him  while  maintaining  a  tone  of  outraged  dignity  which 
suited  him  to  a  nicety  as  he  was  in  the  habit  of  falling 
back  on  it  in  such  emergencies. 

"  You  really  must  excuse  me,  Mobray,  if  I  decline  to 
listen  to  any  more  of  this  nonsense.  It  is  by  no  means  the 
first  time  you  have  assumed  the  right  to  lecture  me,  and 
you  may  as  well  understand  once  for  all  that  I  acknowl- 
edge no  relationship  with  you  that  justifies  it.  You  use 
the  term  '  family  '  with  some  vagueness.  If  you  refer  to 
the  Faucons,  I  need  hardly  say  that  your  sister's  fortunate 
marriage  with  Cuthbert  has  not  constituted  you  their  natu- 
ral guardian  even  unto  the  second  generation,  and  if  you 
mean  the  Leversons,  I  should  very  much  like  to  know  who 
has  put  their  honor  into  your  keeping.  I've  tried  for  some 
years  past  to  keep  on  decent  terms  with  you.  I've  done 
it,  because  in  a  way  you've  been  kind  to  Madge,  and  be- 
cause I'm  not  naturally  quarrelsome.  If  you've  seen  fit 
at  times  to  forget  that  we're  both  gentlemen,  I  haven't. 
I'm  a  much  more  popular  man  in  Brockton  than  you  are, 
and  I've  done  my  best  to  let  you  share  in  it,  just  as  I've 
tried  to  get  you  to  better  yourself  financially,  though  I'd 
every  reason  to  know  I  should  get  no  thanks  for  it ;  but 
when  it  comes  to  abuse,  it's  time  to  call  a  halt.     When  a 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       349 

moment  since,  on  the  strength  of  your  repeated  assertions 
of  a  deep  interest  in  my  daughter,  I  ventured  to  remind 
you  that  your  present  course  in  certain  matters  was  calcu- 
lated to  jeopardize  her  husband's  interest,  I  had  no  inten- 
tion of  inviting  your  criticism  either  of  his  morals  or 
mine.  If  my  remark  can  be  construed  in  that  way,  I  with- 
draw it.  I  have  not  yet  reached  the  pass  where  I  need 
take  pious  counsel  with  the  Town  Atheist." 

The  Colonel  locked  his  desk  with  a  snap,  and  without 
deigning  a  second  glance  at  his  companion  turned  toward 
the  door,  as  if  he  had  said  the  final  word.  Not  so  Doni- 
phan. There  was  something  almost  pitying  in  the  look 
he  fixed  on  the  Colonel  as  he  said  slowly :  — 

"  My  right  to  indict  both  of  you  is  the  inherent  human 
right  to  defend  innocent  people  from  the  smirch  of  fraud 
and  the  taint  of  immorality.  Leverson's  morals  will  receive 
my  attention  just  so  long  as  he  holds  the  power  to  drag 
Margaret  Gilbreed's  name  in  the  mud,  and  you  stand  by 
and  let  him  do  it.  You  broke  down  her  mother's  spirit 
as  you  broke  her  heart,  and  I  kept  my  hands  off  you  all 
those  years ;  but  I  give  you  warning  now  that  I  keep  them 
off  no  longer  if  you  let  Ashton  Leverson  bring  Louise 
Dupre  back  to  Brockton  as  his  mistress." 

Mobray  Doniphan  saw  the  sneer  on  Gilbreed's  face  fade 
slowly.  As  he  stood  there  on  the  other  side  of  the  small 
table,  he  seemed  to  sway  uncertainly  on  his  feet,  as  if  the 
other  man  had  struck  him.  He  put  up  his  almost  woman- 
ish white  hand  and  passed  it  once  or  twice  across  his  fore- 
head, as  if  he  were  trying  to  collect  his  thoughts.  If 
Doniphan's  words  carried  their  impression  slowly,  their 
full  significance  was  no  less  sure ;  for  they  tallied  perfectly 
with  some  other  things  Mortimer  Gilbreed  already  knew, 
or  suspected.  For  once  something  had  pierced  that  tough 
outer  crust  of  his  consummate  egotism,  something  had 
shrunk  at  the  touch  of  the  probe,  like  an  exposed  nerve. 


350  THE   BEATEN    PATH 

It  seemed  to  his  accuser  as  if  the  man  grew  visibly 
older  in  the  few  moments  of  the  pause  which  followed. 
He  turned,  and  leaning  across  the  table  stared  into  the 
other's  eyes. 

"  Where  did  you  learn  this  .-' "  he  demanded  hoarsely. 
"  What  are  your  proofs  .-*  " 

**  Take  his  own  word  for  it,  if  you  prefer  to  do  so.  Go 
to  him  and  ask  him,  and  see  if  he  denies  it.''  Go  to  your 
own  son  and  hear  from  him  where  he  traced  Louise  Dupre 
three  days  ago.  Go  to  Meyer  and  learn  from  him,  as  I 
did  this  morning,  of  the  girl's  second  disappearance  from 
the  home  where  they  placed  her  on  the  morning  after 
Leverson  left  here.  The  yacht  put  into  Aiken  that  same 
day,  and  then  left  without  Leverson.  He  went  on  to  Phila- 
delphia. He  was  seen  with  her  the  morning  of  her  second 
disappearance  by  one  of  Meyer's  men,  who  knew  him  well 
by  sight.  You  know  the  man  as  well  as  I  do,  Bent,  who 
used  to  be  a  varnisher  at  the  works.  I  went  to  the  meet- 
ing to-day  thinking  Leverson  might  put  in  appearance 
there  for  form's  sake,  and  to  allay  suspicion,  but  he  hasn't 
even  taken  the  trouble  to  do  that.  I'm  on  my  way  to  the 
city  now." 

"Why.?" 

The  Colonel  got  the  one  word  out  with  some  difficulty, 
though  the  first  shock  over,  he  was  momentarily  gaining 
fresh  control  of  his  nerves. 

"Why.?  To  see  Leverson,  of  course  He  either  gives 
me  his  oath  that  he  leaves  that  girl  inside  an  hour,  or  I'll 
take  Margaret  home  with  me  to-morrow." 

"  Mobray  Doniphan,  you're  simply  crazy  !  "  the  Colonel 
broke  in,  white  with  passion,  though  with  a  certain  under- 
current of  persuasion  in  his  tone  that  evinced  the  literal 
sincerity  of  his  assertion.  "  You  are  forcing  yourself  into 
my  family  affairs  without  authority  and  without  excuse. 
I'm  much  better  able  to  handle  Leverson  than  you  are;  but 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       35 1 

if  I  were  not,  that  is  purely  my  affair.  My  breaking  with 
him  at  this  juncture  is  not  only  impolitic,  but  would  be  the 
worst  possible  thing  for  Madge.  If  this  deal  be  only  run- 
ning smoothly,  I  have  more  hold  over  him  than  any  other 
man  living;  besides  which,  I'm  my  daughter's  natural  pro- 
tector.    You  can't  force  yourself  between  us." 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do  ? " 

"  See  him  to-night,  at  latest;  but  I  can't  go  until  I've 
seen  Meyer,  except  I  can  prevail  on  you  to  take  my  place," 
the  Colonel  added  as  a  happy  afterthought.  "  You  could 
do  that  part  of  the  work  so  much  better  than  I.  Of  course 
it  would  be  understood  that  while  you  were  doing  it,  I  was 
playing  my  best  cards  with  Leverson." 

The  realization  that  even  at  this  pass  Mortimer  Gilbreed 
was  ready  to  make  a  bargain,  appealed  to  Doniphan  as  a 
choice  example  of  the  man's  unconscious  humor. 

"Thank  you,  I'm  much  obliged,"  he  returned  grimly; 
"but  never  having  made  a  study  of  bribery,  I  don't  feel 
myself  fitted  for  the  part.  My  impression  is  you  won't 
succeed  with  him,  though  you  may,  for  God  knows  he's 
poor  enough.  However,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with 
Madge,  and  that's  what  I  care  for  most.  If  you're  prepared 
to  dp  your  duty  by  her,  I've  no  desire  to  meddle.  If  I  have 
your  word  that  you  will  make  an  honest  effort  to  see  Lever- 
son  to-night,  and  enter  your  protest  against  this  thing,  I'll 
keep  my  hands  off  till  I  hear  from  you,  if  that  is  within 
two  days.     Is  that  understood  between  us.''" 

For  once  helpless  and  speechless,  though  the  angry  light 
still  gleamed  dangerously  in  his  fine  eyes,  the  Colonel 
nodded. 

Without  another  word  Doniphan  turned  on  his  heel  and 
walked  out  of  the  office.  "  I'm  a  fool  to  trust  him,"  was 
his  inward  comment.  "  Faucon,  with  all  his  mulishness, 
is  likely  to  do  more." 


352  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

The  Colonel  himself  was  never  quite  certain  how  long 
he  stood  there  by  his  office  table  after  Doniphan  had  left. 
A  certain  feebleness  of  aspect  like  a  belated  assertion  of 
unrecorded  years,  which  the  other  man  had  noted  in  him, 
seemed,  if  anything,  to  deepen  when  he  found  himself  alone. 

Judged  by  his  own  standard,  the  Colonel  had  borne  the 
cares  of  life  pretty  well  till  now.  Though  he  had  made 
some  mistakes,  suffered  some  defeats,  he  had  on  the  whole 
done  his  work  pretty  well,  and  now  at  fifty-two  he  was 
rounding  it  all  out  nicely  with  a  distinct  success.  An 
honor  which  he  had  dreamed  of  for  twenty  years  was  his. 
A  comfortable  competence  to  match  it  (which  might  with 
absolute  certainty  be  made  more)  was  on  the  point  of 
falling  into  his  lap.  And  this  moment  of  triumph  had 
been  selected  by  a  maUcious  fate  to  strike  a  jarring  note 
and  spoil  the  harmony. 

Not  that  it  jeopardized  his  success  in  any  way.  Being 
sole  judge  of  his  own  actions,  Mortimer  Gilbreed  had  no 
intention  of  allowing  it  to  do  that ;  but  despite  himself,  it 
took  away  something  of  the  intense  gratification  that  had 
till  now  pervaded  the  charming  prospect  stretching  out 
before  him.  Doniphan's  angry  words  had  brought  back 
to  the  Colonel  a  certain  period  of  his  life  which  he  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  dwelling  on.  The  face  of  his  elder 
daughter  had  more  than  once,  in  the  same  way,  conjured 
up  the  face  of  his  dead  wife,  largely  because  he  knew  she 
had  inherited,  along  with  the  regular  features  and  the  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  a  certain  attitude  of  undefined  tacit  criticism 
of  him,  showing  itself  mostly  in  a  lack  of  enthusiasm  as  to 
his  ambitions,  too  near  akin  to  condemnation  to  be  pleasant. 

All  that,  however,  being  a  man  not  given  to  morbid 
fancies,  it  had  been  easy  for  him  to  put  aside,  but  to-day 
with  Doniphan  it  had  been  different.  There  was  nothing 
tacit  about  Doniphan.  He  had  a  certain  ruthless  way  of 
putting  things  which,  whether  he  were  cracked  or  not,  had 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       353 

got  to  be  taken  notice  of,  and  which  for  a  time  at  least 
left  a  sting  behind  it. 

Quite  naturally  the  Colonel's  principal  relief  for  this 
unexpected  strain  upon  his  nerves  came  to  him  in  his 
righteous  anger  against  Leverson.  The  brute  had  put 
himself  in  the  wrong,  and  Margaret  in  the  right,  at  the  pre- 
cise moment  when  it  was  impossible  for  him,  Gilbreed,  to 
break  with  him.  Even  after  they  had  divided  their  prof- 
its; an  open  rupture  would  not  look  well.  No  —  that  had 
got  to  be  avoided  at  all  hazards.  Thanks  to  Doniphan, 
if  one  could  conceive  of  the  formula,  he  knew  where  he 
could  lay  his  hand  on  Leverson.  Harrisburg  was  no 
longer  to  be  thought  of.  He,  the  Colonel,  must  go  on  to 
Philadelphia  by  the  next  train. 

The  prospect  of  immediate  action  roused  him  from  the 
lethargy  a  few  minutes  before  clogging  his  brain  and  mus- 
cles. He  closed  his  office  with  some  return  of  his  usual 
energy,  and  went  across  to  the  Everett  for  dinner  and  to 
telephone  for  a  Pullman  seat  on  the  four  o'clock  train. 

He  found  Judge  Streeter  at  a  small  table  in  the  dining 
room  of  the  hotel,  and  joined  him  more  because  he  dreaded 
to  be  alone  than  because  he  was  in  the  habit  of  enjoying 
that  kind  of  society.  Still  laboring  under  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  morning,  the  Judge  welcomed  him  with  effusion ; 
insisted  on  sharing  with  him  a  choice  brand  of  the  Everett's 
best  whiskey,  and  before  the  meal  was  over,  asked  him 
in  confidence  if  he  would  negotiate  the  sale  of  his  (the 
Judge's)  new  stock. 

The  Colonel  did  not  accept  the  trust  until  much  pressed 
to  do  so ;  but  the  fact  that  he  was  being  pressed 
was  balm  to  his  wounded  spirit.  It  was  further  soothed 
as  he  walked  out  of  the  dining  room,  arm  in  arm  with  the 
Judge,  and  found  himself  the  centre  of  a  good  deal  of 
interest.  In  Washington,  as  yet,  he  was  quite  unknown ; 
in  this  smaller  field  he  was  already  a  man  of  mark.     Every 


354  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

lounger  about  the  lobby  of  the  little  hotel  took  pains  to 
get  in  a  word  with  him,  with  or  without  excuse.  The  Colo- 
nel was  affability  itself  with  every  one  of  them.  Here,  at 
least,  he  was  in  his  natural  element ;  here,  at  least,  he  was 
appreciated. 

By  the  time  he  had  cut  adrift  from  the  Bench  of  Har- 
risburg  and  half  the  Bar  of  Brockton,  it  seemed  to  the 
Colonel  that  things  were  going  pretty  well  after  all.  He 
walked  down  the  main  street  humming  an  air,  and  even 
retained  a  certain  amount  of  jauntiness  when  he  turned 
into  the  tenement  quarter  which  lay  south  of  it  in  the 
direction  of  the  river. 

Though  he  had  rarely  been  in  that  precise  part  of  it 
before,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  Meyer.  Some  street 
urchins  seated  on  the  steps  of  the  saloon  below  pointed 
out  the  stairway  to  him  and  added  the  information  that 
"the  Preacher"  was  just  then  running  his  Church  on  fast 
time,  but  that  it  was  overdue  and  ought  to  be  called  off 
inside  ten  minutes.  Slightly  annoyed  at  this  chance  of 
being  kept  waiting,  the  Colonel  slowly  mounted  the  stairs, 
but  was  much  relieved  on  reaching  the  top  floor  to  find  the 
congregation  coming  out. 

It  consisted  of  five  or  six  elderly  women,  one  of  whom 
carried  a  baby,  and  two  small  boys.  The  Colonel  squeezed 
himself  into  as  small  a  space  as  possible  in  the  hall,  as 
they  filed  past.  He  had  a  disagreeable  sensation  that  the 
baby's  head  was  being  rubbed  up  against  his  coat  sleeve. 
He  was  wiping  that  portion  of  the  garment  with  an 
immaculate  pocket-handkerchief  as  he  entered  the  shabby 
hall.  A  tall  man,  whom  he  remembered  to  have  seen 
somewhere  before,  was  standing  by  one  of  the  front  win- 
dows counting  some  pennies  in  a  tin  plate.  It  was  evi- 
dently the  Church  contribution  plate,  and  the  collection  in 
it  consisted  of  ten  small  copper  cents. 

The  Colonel  stepped  forward  with  his  most  affable  smile. 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       355 

"This  is  Mr.  Meyer,  is  it  not? "  he  asked  in  his  easiest 
manner. 

The  man  bowed  with  quiet  courtesy,  nothing  more. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  have  a  very  large  congregation  in 
the  afternoon,"  the  Colonel  went  on,  determined  to  show 
an  interest.  "  I  was  told  you  had  the  place  crowded, 
sometimes." 

"  On  Sundays,  and  in  the  evenings,  yes ;  only  the  very 
old  or  very  young  can  come  at  other  times,"  Meyer  re- 
turned gravely,  his  eyes  not  upon  the  Colonel's  face,  but 
on  something  above  it. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  see,"  the  latter  returned  with  something 
that  was  almost  apology  for  his  ignorance.  "  I've  heard 
so  much  about  you  lately,  I  really  had  to  look  you  up.  I'm 
Colonel  Gilbreed,  as  I  dare  say  you  know.  I've  been  in 
the  legislature  off  and  on  for  a  good  many  years  now,  and 
I've  always  taken  a  great  interest  in  the  working  people. 
Some  of  our  best  factory  laws  have  passed  through  my 
hands,  so  I've  proved  my  position.  They  don't  seem  to 
give  very  liberally  to  the  Church,  do  they?"  he  ended 
abruptly,  glancing  into  the  plate  and  putting  his  hand  in 
his  pocket  with  an  amused  smile. 

The  Preacher's  face  darkened.  "It  is  charity  unbounded, 
priceless,  the  charity  of  the  poor  to  the  poor,"  he  said 
slowly,  regarding  the  copper  coins  in  the  hollow  of  his 
long,  thin  hand  with  real  affection,  "  But  they  are  not  all 
as  poor  as  this ;  many  of  the  men  give  largely." 

"  Well,  I'm  right  glad  to  hear  it,"  the  Colonel  remarked 
heartily,  withdrawing  an  empty  hand.  "They  tell  me 
you've  done  a  good  deal  in  the  tenements,  too ;  taught 
'em  hygiene  and  Lord  knows  what.  By  the  way,  how  do 
you  get  on  with  the  worst  element?  I  mean  the  very 
ignorant.     What  do  you  teach  'em  first?" 

"  I  teach  them  to  take  their  hats  off  in  Church,"  Meyer 
answered  absently,  as  if  he  were  thinking  of  something  else. 


356  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

To  save  his  reputation,  the  Colonel  could  not  have  told 
whether  the  irony  were  intended  or  not.  Of  course  he  could 
only  ignore  it  verbally.  Nevertheless,  he  uncovered  his 
striking  head  in  the  course  of  the  next  remark,  as  soon, 
in  fact,  as  he  could  do  so  without  apparent  cognizance  of 
Meyer's  unpardonable  rudeness. 

"  I  was  very  much  troubled  at  hearing  this  morning  that 
there  was  some  discontent  over  this  wages  scale  of  the 
new  Company,"  he  was  saying,  with  unshaken  suavity. 
"  I  understand  that  you  and  Mr.  Doniphan  have  been 
doing  your  best  to  make  the  men  keep  to  their  contract 
loyally.  They  ought  to  thank  you  for  it.  It's  to  their 
own  best  interest  to  do  so." 

The  Preacher  here  turned  his  eyes  on  the  speaker  with 
instantly  awakened  interest. 

"  They  will  keep  to  the  letter  and  spirit  of  it,"  he  said 
quickly,  "  but  beyond  that  they  owe  nothing  to  the  new 
Company." 

"  No ;  but  they  should  at  least  put  off  taking  an  antago- 
nistic position  until  they  have  given  their  new  employers  a 
trial.  You  must  remember  Mr.  Leverson  has  always  been 
exceptionally  liberal  in  the  matter  of  wages." 

"  Not  more  so  than  was  fair,"  Meyer  returned  positively. 

"  Well,  go  to  some  of  the  works  in  Harrisburg  and  Lan- 
caster and  compare  for  yourself,"  the  Colonel  put  in  with 
increasing  energy. 

"  That  would  prove  nothing,"  Meyer  went  on  with  quiet 
persistence.  "What  I  mean  is  they  are  not  paid  more 
than  they  earn,  nor  do  they  earn  more  than  enough  to  in- 
sure their  self-respect  as  men.  Under  the  same  wages,  or 
higher,  Mr.  Leverson's  elder  brother  made  a  fortune  in 
twenty  years ;  can  they  be  asked  to  take  less  now,  that  the 
younger  may  double  it  in  three  .-'  " 

Though  the  argument  was  a  commonplace  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  the  words  were  spoken  with  the  marvellous 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       357 

simplicity  of  one  of  the  Galilean  parables.  The  underly- 
ing touch  of  shrewdness,  that  insistence  in  it  which  belongs 
to  the  warm  partisan,  were  all  there,  the  whole  wrapped  in 
an  extreme  delicacy  of  manner  which  softened  it  beyond 
reproach  and  beyond  resentment. 

That  part  of  it,  however,  was  lost  upon  the  Colonel,  nor 
did  he  feel  in  the  least  that  he  had  been  silenced.  An 
argument  on  this  prolific  theme  is  practically  without  limit. 
It  would  have  been  easy  to  remind  the  man  that  present 
conditions  are  not  those  of  fifteen  years  before ;  but  as  he 
evidently  knew  the  chief  difference  consisted  in  a  large 
addition  of  watered  stock,  upon  which  it  was  desirable  to 
pay  dividends,  it  seemed  hardly  worth  while  to  go  into 
that.     Therefore  the  Colonel  branched  off  jauntily. 

"I  dare  say  you're  right  about  the  new  Company's  being 
mean,  but  that  doesn't  prove  it's  for  the  men's  interest  to 
quarrel  with  it.  I  know  that  if  you  work  this  thing  right, 
you  can  at  least  put  off  any  controversy  for  another  five  or 
six  weeks.  Now  I'm  going  to  be  perfectly  honest  with 
you  "  (here  the  Colonel  dropped  his  voice  to  a  whisper  as 
a  proof  of  his  assertion)  "  and  tell  you  that  it's  in  my  per- 
sonal interests  that  there  shouldn't  be  a  row  just  now.  Mind, 
I  thkik  it's  also  in  the  interest  of  the  men,  as  much  if  not 
more  than  mine.  Now  as  always,  Meyer,  Mortimer  Gil- 
breed's  interests  are  the  interests  of  the  humblest  laborer, 
now  as  always  he  stands  guard  over  the  savings  of  the 
widow  and  the  orphan.  And  what  do  I  ask  of  these 
people  in  return .''  Nothing,  sir,  —  nothing  but  to  safe- 
guard their  own  welfare.  They  need  tie  themselves  to 
nothing  for  the  coming  year,  only  keep  quiet ;  await 
events.  If  you  can  get  them  to  consent  to  that  (the  great- 
est kindness  you  could  do  them),  I'm  ready  to  stand  back 
of  you  in  all  the  other  good  you're  doing.  Here  you  are 
working  against  hopeless  odds,  in  a  hand-to-mouth  fash- 
ion, when  you  might  be  simply  sailing  ahead.     I'm  not 


358  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

merely  speaking  of  myself.  I  could  get  hosts  of  other 
men  of  means  and  position  interested.  One  of  my  oldest 
friends  died  the  other  day  in  Harrisburg  and  left  two 
hundred  thousand  dollars  to  a  Church.  Mr.  Doniphan's 
done  no  end  for  the  hospital  here ;  I  could  get  him  inter- 
ested in  your  work  as  easy  as  not." 

The  Colonel  by  this  time  had  forgotten  all  about  his 
late  unpleasantness  with  the  gentleman  last  mentioned. 
He  had  always  had  the  power  of  concentrating  his  atten- 
tion on  the  matter  in  hand.  Glancing  at  the  other  man's 
face,  he  felt  much  reassured  as  to  its  final  outcome.  He 
was  already  debating  within  himself  how  small  a  sum  it 
was  safe  to  mention. 

"  But  all  that  need  not  come  up  now,"  he  went  on 
briskly.  "  If  you  and  I  could  pool  our  interests  as  it  were 
in  this  deal,  I  don't  mind  saying  I  could  raise  five  or  six 
hundred  dollars  within  a  week,  I  flatter  myself  I  have 
some  influence  here.  Five  hundred  dollars  put  into  a  neat 
little  Church  for  the  exclusive  use  of  self-respecting  work- 
ing people  would  make  a  start  —  a  very  fine  start  I  should 
say." 

The  Colonel  was  so  carried  away  by  his  theme  that  it 
was  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  to  add  he  would  like  the 
thing  called  "  The  Gilbreed  Foundation,"  but  he  stopped 
himself  in  time.  He  was  watching  the  Preacher  nar- 
rowly, as  the  latter  said  thoughtfully  :  — 

"  You  confuse  the  two  classes  with  which  I  have  to  deal. 
The  better  class  of  mechanics  do  not  need  charity.  What 
they  want  is  justice.  Their  Church,  when  they  have  one, 
must  be  built  by  their  own  efforts.  But  there  is  a  class 
of  the  very  poor  that  is  always  with  us.  They  need  help, 
God  knows." 

No  man  was  better  fitted  than  the  Colonel  to  read  the 
expression  which  he  thought  he  saw  on  the  other  man's 
face.     He  had  brought  the  same  expression  to  many  other 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       359 

faces  in  his  time.  He  saw  the  man  was  tempted,  —  sorely 
tempted,  —  and  he  instantly  drew  the  conclusion  that  a 
slight  increase  in  figures  would  clinch  the  matter.  There 
was  nothing  in  the  least  niggardly  about  the  Colonel. 

"  Of  course  you  understand  that  I  merely  mentioned 
that  sum  in  a  general  way,"  he  said  warmly.  "  I  know 
perfectly  well  that  what  you  care  for  most  is  a  general 
public  interest  which  is  the  only  thing  which  can  make 
your  work  grow.  Once  aroused,  there's  no  telling  what  it 
might  not  do.  Personally,  I'd  be  willing  to  guarantee  an 
even  thousand  inside  a  very  few  weeks.  A  poor  fund  to 
be  placed  in  your  hands  to  go  where  you  thought  it  would 
do  the  most  good." 

Meyer  had  been  looking  out  through  the  open  window 
at  the  busy  street  below.  He  still  held  the  tin  plate  with 
its  ten  pennies,  symbols  of  the  hand-to-mouth  policy  the 
Colonel  had  casually  mentioned.  Over  the  buildings  oppo- 
site the  square  tower  of  St.  Stephen's  rose  picturesquely 
against  a  clear  blue  sky.  He,  too,  had  shared  that  longing 
to  raise  one  stone  upon  another  to  the  glory  of  God.  And 
the  prospect  of  its  accomplishment  had  seemed  but  a  mo- 
ment before  so  far  off,  so  shadowy.  Perhaps  some  pre- 
monition that  his  work  in  this  world  —  the  world  that 
needed  him  so  pitifully  —  was  to  be  short-lived,  had  settled 
upon  him  within  these  last  few  weeks.  If  he  could  but 
leave  some  monument  behind  him  more  enduring  than 
mere  words,  some  symbol  of  his  Pastorship,  which  in  mak- 
ing men  remember  him  in  years  to  come  would  remind 
them  first  and  foremost  of  his  Cause.  And  it  might  be 
done,  as  the  Colonel  said,  so  easily.  The  suggested  com- 
pact did  not  in  any  way  jeopardize  the  daily  bread  of  those 
he  loved  best.  He  had  been  preaching  to  them  for  weeks 
past  —  patience,  self-control,  even  gentleness  —  a  waiting 
policy  as  opposed  to  an  aggressive,  a  disposition  to  meet 
their  new  masters  halfway.     All  this  man  asked  was  that 


360  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

he  maintain  that  policy  for  a  definite  period ;  true,  some- 
what longer  than  he  had  intended,  but  not  so  very  much 
longer. 

He  was  to  be  paid  for  this  not  only  in  money,  but  by 
the  interest  of  a  class  which  he  had  as  yet  barely  touched. 
There  was  no  knowing  what  this  newly  bestowed  privilege 
of  giving  might  do  for  them.  The  busy  street  below 
seemed  typical  of  a  power  which  lay  under  his  very  hand 
if  he  would  but  take  it.  Ranged  on  his  side,  it  might 
indeed  make  his  mission  sure.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
ten  years  of  labor  he  had,  within  the  last  few  minutes, 
doubted  his  success,  his  strength  to  carry  it  through ;  for 
the  first  time  he  had  thought  of  that  strength  merely  as 
his  own. 

Still  watching  him,  the  Colonel  was  so  sure  that  he  had 
won  the  day,  that  he  utterly  failed  to  understand  a  rapid 
change  of  expression  which  passed  over  the  face  like 
brilliant  sunshine  after  the  deep  shadow  of  threatened 
storm.  The  man's  hands  had  tightened  their  hold  on  the 
little  tin  plate.  His  lips  were  moving  slightly  as  he  looked 
almost  lovingly  at  the  ten  small  pieces  of  copper.  As  he 
again  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  Colonel's  face,  they  had  re- 
covered all  their  brightness,  the  carriage  of  the  head  on  the 
long  thin  neck  was  high  again.  Though  the  lips  were  smil- 
ing, there  was  a  suggestion  of  contempt  in  them. 

"  I  will  not  do  it,"  he  said  with  slow  distinctness. 
"Within  a  week  the  Brotherhood  and  the  Union  will 
make  their  position  clear.  What  influence  I  have  will 
be  used  to  make  that  position  just  and  reasonable;  but  it 
will  not  be  a  weak  one,  and  its  announcement  will  not  be 
delayed  through  me." 

For  the  second  time  that  day  the  Colonel  was  thoroughly 
exasperated,  and  now  he  was  even  less  able  than  before  to 
put  some  check  on  his  perfectly  natural  resentment.  He 
walked  to  the  door  before  he  trusted  himself  to   speak ; 


STRETCHING  THE  COLONEL'S  ELASTIC  TEMPER       36 1 

but  once  there  he  turned  and  delivered  his  parting  ad- 
monition. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  obliged  to  you  for  being  so 
perfectly  straightforward, "  he  said  with  a  sneer,  "  espe- 
cially as  it  will  save  me  a  considerable  outlay.  You  are 
evidently  banking  on  the  supposition  that  you  have  unlim- 
ited power  and  can  sell  it  in  a  higher  market ;  but  you'll 
find  yourself  wofuUy  mistaken  there.  Even  if  you  can 
succeed  in  bringing  on  a  general  labor  row,  which  I  doubt, 
the  consequences  may  be  considerably  worse  for  your  side 
than  for  mine.  A  general  lockout  is  sometimes  a  good 
thing  to  meet  a  strike  halfway,  only  when  it  comes,  and 
your  precious  Brotherhood  and  Sisterhood  are  starving 
by  the  dozens,  don't  come  snivelling  to  the  wealthy  people 
of  Brockton  and  ask  for  alms.  I've  done  my  best  to  pre- 
vent the  misery  of  such  results.  As  usual,  I've  been  told 
to  mind  my  own  business.  I  give  you  my  word,  I  will  after 
this.  I  wish  you  a  good  afternoon,  Mr.  Meyer,  a  very  good 
afternoon." 

The  Preacher  merely  bowed  gravely,  and  took  a  step 
forward  as  if  to  see  his  visitor  out.  In  doing  so,  one  of 
the  copper  cents  slipped  from  his  fingers  and  rolled  to  the 
floor.  As  the  door  slammed  after  the  departing  Colonel, 
the  man  stooped  and  picked  it  up,  and  stood  looking  at  it 
thoughtfully.  No  one  knew  better  than  he  did  that  the 
threat  he  had  just  heard  might  very  easily  be  made  good, 
yet  he  did  not  for  a  moment  regret  what  he  had  done. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


SMILES   AND   TEARS 


The  same  morning  which  Doniphan  had  employed  so 
profitably  in  making  himself  disHked,  Margaret  Leverson 
received  one  of  his  characteristic  notes,  asking  her  to  defer 
her  afternoon's  work  on  "The  Italiana,"  which,  under  pres- 
sure of  other  matter,  had  got  to  be  laid  aside. 

This  epistle  of  barely  ten  lines,  confined  strictly  to  busi- 
ness, and  signed  "  Yours  truly,  M.  Doniphan,"  neither 
disappointed  nor  hurt  Margaret.  She  knew  him  too  well 
for  that,  and,  moreover,  this  respite  from  one  of  her  regular 
occupations  was,  at  the  moment,  rather  a  relief  than  other- 
wise. 

That  morning  in  the  library  she  had  let  pass  without 
comment  Leverson's  reference  to  Reggie's  indebtedness  to 
him,  because,  at  the  time,  she  could  have  expressed  noth- 
ing but  regret,  and  any  further  regrets  for  her  own  or  her 
family's  shortcomings  had  seemed,  just  then,  not  only 
superfluous,  but  puerile. 

It  had  come  to  her  since  that  there  was  a  course  open  to 
her  which,  while  it  involved  self-sacrifice,  was  so  clearly 
the  best  thing  to  do  that  she  welcomed  it  almost  joyously. 

"  She  would  have  wished  it,"  the  girl  said  to  herself,  as 
with  her  lips  closed  firmly  she  went  down  to  the  great 
silver  safe  built  into  the  dining-room  wall  and  unlocked 
an  inner  partition  containing  her  jewellery. 

Margaret  had  no  very  definite  idea  of  the  commercial 
value  of  such  things,  and    personally  she  had  very  little 

362 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  363 

fondness  for  them.  She  did  not  even  stop  to  open  the 
case  containing  a  diamond  necklace  —  Leverson's  wed- 
ding present.  She  had  no  more  sense  of  personal  owner- 
ship in  it,  nor  in  the  other  bits  of  brilliant  stone  which 
surrounded  it,  than  she  had  in  the  numerous  trays  of  silver 
just  below  it  stamped  with  the  Leverson  monogram.  The 
diamonds  had  been  given  to  her  for  a  specific  purpose. 
She  had  no  intention  of  robbing  Peter  to  pay  Peter. 

But  there  was  one  shabby  little  case  containing  some- 
thing unquestionably  hers.  It  was  the  only  thing  there 
she  was  in  the  least  fond  of  —  the  only  thing  she  would 
have  parted  from  with  any  real  regret.  She  dropped  this 
case  into  a  small  side  bag  she  wore,  closed  the  safe  carefully, 
and  went  out  across  the  veranda  to  where  the  pony  phae- 
ton was  waiting  for  her  on  the  front  gravel. 

As  she  drove  through  Brockton  she  stopped  at  the 
Lindleys'  to  arrange  for  an  afternoon  airing  of  the  three 
infants ;  she  was  making  the  most  of  her  time  now.  She 
was  informed  by  Victoria  that  Mrs.  Lindley  was  playing 
croquet  with  her  next-door  neighbor  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  division  fence,  and  almost  simultaneously  Mrs. 
Lindley  herself  made  her  appearance  through  a  gap  in  it, 
followed  by  her  three  younger  children  carrying  wooden 
balls  and  mallets. 

"  I  saw  you  drive  in  and  ran  right  over,"  the  little 
woman  explained  rather  breathlessly  as  she  came  up  to 
the  front  wheel  of  the  phaeton  and  held  out  a  thin  hand. 
"  I've  been  playing  croquet  'most  all  the  morning  with  Miss 
Finch  because,  somehow,  I  couldn't  settle  to  work." 

Margaret  looked  at  her  narrowly  and  saw  that  she  had 
been  crying.  Incongruous  as  it  might  seem,  she  had 
apparently  been  playing  croquet  and  shedding  tears  at  the 
same  time.  Margaret  had  known  such  things  to  happen 
before.  It  was  not  suggestive  of  a  pleasant  morning  for 
Miss  Finch. 


364  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  We're  all  so  upset  about  it,"  Mrs.  Lindley  went  on, 
trying  to  capture  one  of  the  balls  from  Ned  who,  holding 
his  body  at  an  acute  angle  (so  that  the  under  portion  of 
his  anatomy  was  unnecessarily  exposed  to  view),  was  ex- 
amining it  with  scientific  interest  as  it  lay  on  the  drive, 
"so  upset  about  it,  Mrs.  Leverson." 

At  the  moment  Ned  appeared  to  be  the  only  member  of 
the  Lindley  family  who,  from  a  purely  physical  point  of 
view,  was  what  might  have  been  called  "  upset "  ;  but  Mar- 
garet observed  that  Mrs.  Lindley's  words  were  fraught 
with  deeper  meaning. 

"  No  bad  news,  I  trust .'' "  she  asked  with  deepest  sym- 
pathy. 

"  Why,  surely  you  must  have  heard  !  "  the  little  woman 
exclaimed  with  such  genuine  surprise  that  she  rehnquished 
the  ball  to  Ned,  thereby  averting  a  threatened  howl  of 
protest.  "The  Doctor's  been  gone  to  the  hospital  over 
an  hour  now.  The  word  from  there  early  this  morning 
was  that  Mr.  Thallon  was  awful  bad.  I've  a  feeling  he's 
going ;  yet  it  doesn't  seem  possible,  does  it  .-•  He  was  so 
young  and  strong  and  confident,  as  it  were." 

Margaret  looked  away  across  the  Lindley  scrap  of  lawn 
at  the  soft  play  of  light  and  shadow  under  the  arching 
elms  in  the  street  beyond.  She  had  heard  no  news  of 
Owen  Thallon  since  Doniphan's  cheerful  prognostication 
of  night  before  last.  He  had  purposely  refrained  from 
making  any  mention  of  the  case  in  his  note.  She  could 
not  herself  understand  the  effect  the  news  had  upon  her. 
Her  dominant  sensation  was  one  of  indignant  surprise  and 
protest.  The  first  report  had  been  bad,  and  had  turned  out 
false,  —  why  not  this  ? 

"Do  not  give  up  hope  yet,"  she  rejoined  quietly;  "you 
have  yourself  said  how  young  and  strong  he  was.  Strong, 
too,  in  more  ways  than  one.  He  will  make  a  great  fight 
for  life.      I  am  glad  to  hear  you  speak  of  him  as  you  do," 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  365 

she  added  thoughtfully.  "  He  had  the  making  of  a  true 
man  in  him." 

"  That's  just  it,"  Mrs.  Lindley  ejaculated,  much  pleased 
at  having  what  she  wanted  to  say  said  for  her.  "  The 
Doctor  called  him  an  '  all-round  pugilist ' ;  but  the  way  you 
put  it  sounds  more  respectful  now  he's  dying.  Miss 
Finch  said  this  morning  he  was  stimulating,  and  that  was 
what  upset  me  so,  because  I  knew  it  was  true,  and  because 
I  need  that  kind  of  stimulating  all  the  time,  especially 
when  the  Doctor's  away,  and  Victoria's  fractious,  and  the 
children  are  carrying  on.  That's  how  I  found  it  out. 
When  he  first  came  here,  you  could  see  he  wasn't  much 
used  to  children  —  had  a  kind  of  worried  look  when  they 
wiped  their  hands  on  his  clothes.  Well,  before  he'd  been 
coming  here  a  week  off  and  on,  they  minded  him  a  good 
deal  better  than  any  one  except  the  Doctor.  Now,  as  a 
rule  you  know,  you've  got  to  be  right  fond  of  children  to 
make  'em  mind,  and  sometimes  even  then  they  won't." 

"  That's  very  true,"  Margaret  said  absently.  She  was 
trying  to  wrench  her  thoughts  from  a  dying  man's  bed- 
side. Her  power  of  self-deception  was  nearly  gone.  She 
knew  she  had  no  hope  —  no  belief  in  her  own  words. 

"  If  you'd  ever  had  children  of  your  own,  Mrs.  Lever- 
son,"  Mrs.  Lindley  went  on  pensively,  though  her  spirits 
were  evidently  rising  under  the  influence  of  this  confiden- 
tial talk,  "  you'd  know  that  though  at  times  they're  little 
angels,  there's  other  times  they  ain't." 

"  The  last  would  apply  to  most  of  us,"  Margaret  said, 
welcoming  Mrs.  Lindley's  tendency  to  generalize ;  "  your 
children  are  very,  very  good  with  me,"  and  therewith  she 
put  in  her  appUcation  for  the  afternoon,  and  obtained  the 
little  lady's  smiling  consent. 

As  she  drove  off,  Margaret's  own  face  changed  slowly. 
The  quiet  sadness  of  it  was  not  only  deepening,  but  that 
old  haunted  look  was  creeping  back  into  her  eyes  again. 


366  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Well,  what  if  this  were  true  ?  If  the  man's  place  were 
vacant,  how  long  would  it  take  for  the  tide  of  forgetful- 
ness  to  close  in  over  it  ?  For  Mrs.  Lindley,  with  croquet 
applied  as  a  restorative,  not  very  long.  With  the  Doctor 
and  Mr.  Doniphan  somewhat  longer ;  but  with  a  lonely, 
struggling  woman  who  had  learned  to  watch  the  strong, 
square  lines  of  a  man's  face  as  it  softened  into  ready  com- 
prehension at  a  word  from  her  —  oh,  how  could  she  ever 
forget  it,  ever  let  it  die  out  without  a  word  or  a  sign ! 

Did  she  not  at  least  deserve  that .-'  She,  who  had  done 
so  much  to  make  him  what  he  was  ?  With  a  great  welling 
up  of  a  deeper  feeling  she  let  herself  rejoice,  for  an  in- 
stant, that  she  had  gone  to  him  when  she  had.  As  no  one 
else  who  had  known  him  here,  she  had  changed  the  cur- 
rent of  his  life  toward  something  nobler  and  better  than 
the  mere  daily  struggle  for  bread,  that  inevitable  curse  of 
poverty.  Despite  the  poverty,  despite  the  seeming  hope- 
lessness of  his  position,  she,  with  her  first  'true  knowledge 
of  him,  had  seen  his  capacity  to  rise  above  it.  She  had 
seen  him  expand  under  her  first  spontaneous  recognition 
of  it  in  him  like  some  neglected  plant  under  careful 
nursing. 

And  she  in  giving  had  taken  something  in  return.  If 
he  had  only  lived,  even  if  she  had  never  seen  him  again, 
the  pride  she  could  have  taken  in  his  assured  success 
would  have  gone  so  far  toward  softening  her  own  Hfe. 
Women  are  queer.  She  had  only  known  this  man  three 
months;  yet  she  was  perfectly  sure  of  both  these  things, — 
sure  of  his  success,  of  her  own  absorption  in  it.  If  he 
had  lived,  she  could  have  gone  down  through  the  years 
feeling  that  she  had  done  that  one  good  thing,  and  that 
the  world  was  better  for  her  having  done  it.  Was  it  in 
this  proud  consciousness  of  a  personal  understanding,  a 
personal  influence,  that  lay  her  deep-stirred  interest  in 
Owen  Thallon  ? 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  367 

It  seemed  to  her  as  she  drove  slowly  through  the  quiet, 
sleepy  streets  that  she  had  known  him  for  years.  Time 
is  nothing  in  such  a  comprehension  of  one  nature  by  an- 
other. It  comes  Hke  a  gift,  like  some  subtle  sixth  sense, 
without  the  asking.  All  else  is  blindness  beside  such 
seeing. 

At  the  moment  something  very  like  a  wordless  prayer 
took  shape  in  her  heart  that  this  one  thing  she  asked  be 
given  to  her.  The  very  depth  of  the  emotion  upon  a 
.nature  naturally  so  self-contained,  instead  of  exhausting, 
seemed  rather  to  soothe  her.  Like  all  instinctive  human 
supplication  to  the  Unseen  Giver,  it  carried  its  own  an- 
swer. She  felt  stronger.  The  hope  within  her  before 
grew  luminous.  It  required  an  effort  to  force  her  mind 
into  another  channel.  She  must  not  forget  the  work  she 
had  set  before  herself  that  morning. 

By  the  time  she  hitched  her  pony  to  the  post  in  front 
of  the  old  Burney  House,  Reggie  and  Reggie's  interests 
had  been  brought  to  the  front.  She  did  it  by  sheer 
strength  of  will.  Her  mind  was  fully  made  up.  She 
must  forget  Thallon,  she  must  forget  herself.  Yes ;  if  he 
would  only  live,  she  would  forget. 

It  did  not  surprise  her  very  much  as  she  went  up  the 
front  walk  to  hear  sounds  of  hammering  coming  from  the 
interior  of  the  old  house.  Reggie  was  always  having  alter- 
ations made  —  alterations  requiring  a  carpenter  and  several 
assistants.  He  usually  lay  on  his  back  on  the  divan  and 
criticised  the  work  as  it  progressed. 

To-day  the  studio  door  into  the  hall  was  half  closed,  and 
as  the  noise  within  made  knocking  a  useless  ceremony, 
Margaret  pushed  it  open  and  stood  on  the  threshold  look- 
ing in. 

That  something  very  much  out  of  the  common  was  going 
on  was  apparent  at  her  first  glance.  The  once  beautiful 
room  lay  before  her  dismantled  and  in  dire  confusion.    The 


368  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

heavy  draperies  of  walls  and  windows  lay  in  large  rolls  on 
the  divan.  On  top  and  about  them  lay  piled  enough  bric- 
a-brac  to  have  filled  a  good-sized  shop.  The  hooka  stood 
on  top  of  the  bookcase,  its  serpent-like  stem  wound  around 
the  legs  of  the  Flying  Mercury,  a  bronze  Buddha  occupied 
the  cushioned  seat  of  Reggie's  reading  chair,  smiling  his 
broad  metallic  smile  at  a  Barye  Lion  snarhng  at  him  from 
the  window  ledge  opposite.  Several  large  packing-cases 
stood  open  about  the  floor,  upon  one  of  which,  just  filled 
with  books,  Reggie  himself,  his  back  to  the  door,  was  busy 
nailing  a  cover. 

He  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  and  his  curly  hair  was  much 
dishevelled.  Nevertheless,  as  he  drove  the  nail  home,  and 
turned  to  take  a  comprehensive  view  of  his  handiwork,  she 
thought  she  had  never  seen  him  look  so  well,  so  handsome. 

The  same  instant  he  saw  her,  he  dropped  the  hammer 
and  made  a  dive  for  a  corduroy  coat  hanging  on  the  chair 
behind  the  Buddha.  Reggie  was  courteous  to  all  women, 
even  sisters. 

"  Why,  Madge  Gilbreed !  how  long  have  you  been  here.''" 
he  demanded,  more  color  in  his  face  than  his  late  occupa- 
tion warranted. 

"  Long  enough  to  be  puzzled  over  this  state  of  things," 
she  answered,  smiling  with  a  little  motion  of  her  hand 
toward  the  bric-a-brac. 

His  use  of  her  maiden  name  puzzled  her ;  it  had  come 
from  him  so  involuntarily,  but  she  had  more  important 
things  to  inquire  into  just  then. 

"Why,  you  and  Leverson  are  not  the  only  people  in 
Brockton  who  pack  up  occasionally,"  he  said,  laughing. 
"  I  usually  go  north  in  August,  and  this  year  I  thought  I'd 
take  the  things  with  me,  that's  all.  Wait  till  I  get  this 
Indian  god  out  of  my  chair.  There's  a  seat  for  you,  if  it's 
not  too  dusty." 

"  Are  you  going  to   have   a   New  York  studio .'' "  she 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  369 

asked  rather  breathlessly.  This  taking  time  by  the  fore- 
lock was  so  unprecedented  for  Reggie. 

The  humor  died  out  of  the  boy's  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  have  a  shake-down  somewhere,  I  reckon," 
he  said  with  a  lame  attempt  at  continued  cheerfulness. 

Instead  of  seating  herself,  Margaret  had  stood  there 
watching  the  play  of  Hght  and  shade  across  his  transpar- 
ent face.  She  came  over  to  him  now  and  put  her  hand 
upon  his  arm. 

"  Reggie  dear,"  she  said  simply,  "  I  know  you're  in 
trouble,  and  I've  come  to  help  you." 

She  had  taken  the  case  from  the  little  bag  at  her  side 
when  she  first  came  in,  she  was  so  impatient  to  let  him 
know  how  much  she  could  do  for  him.  She  was  holding 
it  now  tightly  between  her  fingers  —  somehow  it  seemed 
symbolic  of  her  mother's  love,  come  in  the  nick  of  time  to 
save  the  boy's  honor  and  her  own.  She  went  on  hur- 
riedly, her  mind  intensely  occupied  with  the  importance 
of  what  she  had  to  say. 

"  I  learned  of  your  debt  to  Ashton  only  yesterday.  How 
I  learned  it  doesn't  at  all  matter.  All  that  does  matter  is 
the  paying  it  without  a  moment's  delay.  Even  before, 
when -I  knew  you  owed  others,  I  felt  very  strongly  it  could 
not  go  on  ;  but  lately  I  have  said  less  about  it,  for  I  saw  no 
way  in  which  I  coul4  help  you.  I  had  saved  something 
out  of  presents  from  Aunt  Abby  —  but  that  would  not 
more  than  settle  your  debts  to  the  Doctor.  But  this  other 
staggered  me.  Then  it  came  to  me  all  at  once  about 
the  pearls,  —  mother's  pearls,  —  I  know  they're  valuable ; 
enough,  I  think,  to  cover  everything.  There's  nothing  she 
would  have  been  more  anxious  to  do  than  pay  this  debt. 
It  must  be  paid,  Reggie.  And  there  must  be  no  more 
debts  after  this." 

The  boy's  hatred  of  being  lectured  was  swamped  for 
the  moment  in  the  realization  of  what  she  had  done  for 
2  B 


370  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

him;  beyond  that  any  condemnation  of  him  which  her 
words  impHed  must  be  instantly  disarmed  when  she  learned 
of  his  momentous  resolution.  Then,  too,  all  she  had  said 
was  so  pregnant  with  a  tenderness  almost  maternal  in  its 
desire  to  shield  as  well  as  counsel.  He  would  have  been 
very  far  from  the  impressionable  boy  he  was  if  he  had  not 
been  deeply  touched  by  it. 

He  took  the  little  morocco  case  and  opened  it  with  a 
touch  for  him  almost  reverential ;  for  once  even  the  glib- 
tongued  Reggie  could  not  trust  his  own  voice.  He  took 
out  the  long  chain  of  pearls  in  their  old-fashioned  silver 
mounting  and  looked  at  them  thoughtfully.  Knowing 
their  value  as  he  did,  it  was  a  surprise  even  to  himself  that 
they  offered  him  no  temptation.  Perhaps  something  Thal- 
lon  had  said  about  hiding  behind  women's  petticoats  had 
left  its  mark  upon  him.  No ;  he  had  had  his  fight  over 
this  kind  of  temptation  and  had  won.  Once  only,  last 
night,  when  he  had  been  going  over  the  old  house,  it 
had  seemed  to  him  that  he  could  not  do  it. 

That  morning  when  he  had  come  home  from  the  Hill 
Farm  with  the  entirely  new  impression  that  the  Burney 
House  did  not  belong  to  him  had  settled  it.  Before  that, 
on  the  very  rare  occasions  when  Dr.  Lindley  had  asked 
him  for  rent,  and  still  rarer  when  he  had  paid  any,  it  had 
always  seemed  to  him  more  in  the  nature  of  a  gift  bestowed 
on  the  worthy  poor  than  any  return  for  his  temporary  use 
of  a  piece  of  real  estate  he  had  done  so  much  to  beautify 
and  improve.  Just  because  he  had  given  it  a  character 
pecuUarly  his  own  he  had  grown  to  love  the  old  place,  and 
love  and  possession  were  two  good  things  which  Reggie 
had  always  considered  ought  to  go  together.  He  had 
completed  the  stifling  of  that  strange  impression  when  he 
had  torn  down  the  hangings  and  packed  up  the  books. 
He  had  made  up  his  mind  then.  He  was  not  going  to 
turn  back  now,  did  not  even  dream  of  doing  so,  as  he  put 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  37 1 

the  pearls  into  the  case  again  and  handed  it  back  to  his 
sister.     She  was  regarding  him  with  growing  anxiety. 

"  I  say,  Madge,  you're  a  dear  old  thing,"  he  remarked 
quite  dispassionately,  though  he  had  put  an  affectionate 
arm  over  her  shoulder  and  was  looking  down  into  her  eyes 
with  the  slightest  possible  trace  of  moisture  in  his  own ; 
"  but  you  mustn't  think  I  need  to  take  any  such  desperate 
step  as  that.  Why,  I  never  could  make  any  reference 
afterward  to  the  family  jewels,  you  know.  Besides,  I've 
resources  you  apparently  haven't  dreamed  of.  Didn't  it 
ever  occur  to  you  that  the  small  trifles  now  strewn  rather 
carelessly  around  this  room  were  worth  something .-' " 

Reggie  waved  his  disengaged  hand  at  the  objects  men- 
tioned with  a  certain  sense  of  spectacular  enjoyment. 

"  Surely  not  that  much,"  Margaret  cried  incredulously. 

"They're  worth  nearer  five  than  four  thousand,"  he 
said  grimly.  "You  see,  in  my  time  I've  sold  quite  a 
number  of  canvases,  and  a  large  part  of  the  proceeds 
has  gone  into  these  things,  besides  a  fair  share  of  what 
I've  borrowed.  Now  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  sell  out 
and  have  a  fresh  deal;  for  once  in  my  life,  I  mean  to 
earn  my  living." 

He  was  quite  prepared  to  be  praised  and  petted,  quite 
prepared  for  feminine  exclamations  of  surprise  and  de- 
light ;  but  he  was  not  at  all  prepared  for  what  followed. 
She  had  given  him  one  long  searching  look  to  make  sure 
that  he  meant  it,  and  then,  before  she  realized  what  she 
was  going  to  do,  the  girl  had  put  her  head  down  on  his 
shoulder,  and  was  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"Oh,  I  might  have  known,  I  might  have  known!"  she 
managed  to  say  in  the  midst  of  her  struggle  for  self- 
control.  "Oh,  Reggie,  I  haven't  had  half  enough  faith 
in  you." 

A  certain  inherent  honesty  was  at  war  with  his  artistic 
enjoyment  of  the  situation ;  every  atom  of  that  superficial 


372  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

growth  in  him  revelled  in  her  commendation.  The  poseur 
in  him  delighted  in  the  part  of  the  reformed  egotist,  which 
she  had  assigned  him,  and  which  he  knew  he  could  play  so 
well;  but  his  honesty  gained  the  upper  hand. 

"Oh,  come  now,  I  mustn't  sail  under  false  colors,  you 
know,"  he  protested  in  some  embarrassment,  giving  her 
a  reassuring  little  pat,  and  then  holding  her  off  at  arm's 
length  that  he  might  see  the  effect  of  his  confession  in  her 
face.  "The  idea  I'm  trying  to  work  out  is  primarily  Mr. 
Doniphan's.  I  went  to  him  and  told  him  about  the  mess  I 
was  in,  principally,  I  confess,  because  I  thought  he  might 
offer  to  help  me ;  but  instead  of  loaning  me  any  money 
he  made  me  a  free  gift  of  a  large  amount  of  good  advice. 
That,  of  course,  usually  ends  the  matter ;  but  for  the  sake 
of  variety,  it  just  then  occurred  to  me  I  couldn't  do  better 
than  take  it.  Just  the  same,  it  wasn't  altogether  Mister 
Mobray  Doniphan.  Some  glimmerings  of  the  same  thing 
had  come  to  me  before,  I  think  something  Thallon  said 
first  suggested  it,  if  I  remember  rightly." 

She  had  stood  there  smiling  at  him  through  eyes  still 
moist  with  recent  tears,  very  brave  eyes  in  spite  of  that ; 
but  at  Reggie's  last  reference  that  look  of  startled  inquiry 
had  leaped  into  them  again. 

"  In  his  way  he  was  really  an  extraordinary  fellow," 
Reggie  went  on,  lapsing  into  something  Hke  his  old  dreami- 
ness. "  Did  sort  of  impulsive  things  which  you  or  I 
could  understand,  because  we're  impulsive,  too,  though  I'm 
free  to  say  my  inner  promptings  are  mostly  in  the  inter- 
ests of  the  central  ego.  His  weren't.  Now  he's  gone,  poor 
fellow,  I'd  like  to  acknowledge  my  debt  to  him  as  well  as 
Mr.  Doniphan.  I'd  Uke  you  to  know  that  he  did  one 
splendid  thing  before  he  died." 

"  Then  you  think  there  is  no  hope } "  she  asked  in  a 
choking  voice. 

Reggie  shook  his  head.    He  set  down  her  being  so  much 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  373 

moved  to  her  recent  breakdown.  He  was  trying  to  tell 
her  this  so  as  to  cheer  her  up.  Reggie  always  had  the 
best  intentions. 

"  I  was  round  there  an  hour  or  so  ago ;  I'm  afraid  it's 
about  over.  Hard  on  me,  because  I'd  learned  to  like  him 
tremendously.  Well,  about  this  thing  he  did,  I  shouldn't 
tell  you  if  he  weren't  practically  gone.  Even  as  it  is,  I'm 
not  at  liberty  to  mention  names  or  be  very  expHcit.  I  did 
not  learn  the  main  fact  from  him.  I  give  you  that  out  of 
justice  to  the  memory  of  a  splendid  fellow ;  but  my  deeper 
understanding  of  it  and  of  him  came  to  me  through  his 
confidence.  You  couldn't  appreciate  that,  Madge,  for  of 
course  to  you  he  was  only  one  of  Ashton's  clerks." 

Reggie  paused  as  if  to  collect  himself.  The  look  in 
Margaret's  eyes  had  deepened  strangely,  they  were  almost 
eager  now. 

"To  begin  with,"  Reggie  went  on,  "you  know  as  much 
of  the  Dupre  episode  as  the  public  knows,  but  no  more. 
You  know  the  girl  disappeared,  but  you  don't  know  she 
was  found  and  rescued  by  Meyer." 

Margaret  admitted  her  ignorance.  The  information  gave 
her  a  shock  of  surprise  and  pleasure,  but  she  could  not 
connect  it  in  any  way  with  Thallon.  Only  once,  when  she 
had  told  him  of  Dupr^'s  demand  to  see  Leverson  at  Elm- 
hurst,  had  the  subject  been  mentioned  between  them.  She 
remembered  distinctly  he  had  seemed  very  much  annoyed, 
even  uneasy,  on  learning  of  the  incident. 

"  While  Meyer  was  away,"  Reggie  was  saying,  "  Thallon 
stayed  here  and  kept  an  eye  on  Dupr6.  It  seems  there 
was  a  man  connected  with  the  Works,  an  outwardly  respect- 
able, well-to-do  sort  of  a  fellow,  and  married,  too,  whom 
Dupr6  had  begun  to  suspect  as  the  cause  of  the  girl's  flight. 
Thallon  must  have  known  that  such  a  suspicion  in  Dupr6 
meant  murder.  Anyway,  he  threw  himself  between  the 
two  men  and  drew  suspicion  on  himself.     I   suppose  he 


374  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

thought  he  could  defend  himself ;  but  you  know  the  pen- 
alty he  paid  for  it." 

"And  where  did  you  learn  this?  " 

"  From  Dupre  himself.  I  saw  him  in  prison  late  yes- 
terday. I've  not  even  told  Mr.  Doniphan,  though  it  up- 
sets his  theory  of  the  Dupre  affair  entirely." 

She  had  followed  him  with  breathless  interest.  With  the 
swiftness  of  instinct  she  was  piecing  together  little  things 
she  had  known  of  Thallon  —  little  things  that  had  gone  to 
make  up  that  estimate  of  him  uppermost  in  her  mind  when 
she  had  spoken  of  him  to  Mrs.  Lindley  an  hour  before. 
How  this  confirmed  it  all !     Her  mind  hurried  on. 

"And  the  wife  .'' "  she  asked,  "  the  wife  of  the  man  he 
saved :  she  knew .-' " 

"Know  !  she'll  never  know!  That's  what  made  it  to  my 
mind  so  strong  in  him.  So  unhke  myself.  The  man  had 
a  soul.     And  he  didn't  wear  it  on  his  shirt  sleeve,  either." 

"Yes,  that's  true,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  I,  too,  have 
seen  it  in  him ;  but  I  am  glad  to  know  this  as  proof  of  it, 
just  as  I  am  of  this  proof  of  your  own  strength.  You  must 
not  underestimate  yourself.  Whatever  you  have  gained 
from  others,  you  have  taken  the  strong  part  now." 

She  was  using  her  new-found  sisterly  pride  to  force  her- 
self away  from  revery  into  the  active  present.  For  a  time 
she  would  talk  of  nothing  else  but  his  plans. 

"You're  sure  you  don't  need  the  pearls  just  to  bridge 
over  in  the  meantime  }  "  she  asked  at  the  end  of  a  long 
talk,  when  she  had  turned  to  go. 

Reggie  waved  them  away  grandly  ;  he  was  in  his  element 
now,  wrapped  in  his  own  sanguine  hopes. 

"  No ;  this  time  I  mean  to  do  it  all  myself.  I  even  see 
glimmerings  in  the  future  of  being  able  to  keep  something 
besides  my  own  head  above  water.  Oh,  Madge,"  the  boy 
went  on  with  swift  abandonment  of  heroics  for  pure  feel- 
ing, "  what  do  you  think  my  chances  are  with  Hilda  after 
all  these  years?" 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  375 

Margaret  repressed  a  smile.  It  was  difficult  to  think  of 
Reggie  as  a  competitor  with  Jacob  for  the  honors  of  un- 
swerving devotion.  She  had  a  vague  impression  that  there 
had  been  another  girl  within  a  year  or  two  ;  but  that  the 
boy  was  very  much  in  love  just  then  needed  no  telling.  She 
herself  was  ready  to  give  him  unstinted  sympathy,  because 
she  saw  that  the  feeling  was  genuine,  and  opined  that  the 
path  ahead  of  this  true  love  was  not  strewn  with  roses. 

"  How  can  I  judge.-*  She  is  so  very  young,"  Margaret 
said  with  the  calmness  of  her  own  maturity.  "  I  can't 
honestly  say  I  think  you've  made  much  impression  on  her  as 
yet,  but  all  that  might  come  in  time.  But  there's  one  thing 
which  you  seem  to  have  ignored  which  to  me  is  serious. 
Uncle  Cuthbert  has  not  looked  on  you  with  much  favor 
since  you  refused  to  study  for  the  ministry,  and  he  is  cer- 
tainly not  likely  to  be  enthusiastic  about  any  marriage 
between  first  cousins." 

Reggie  looked  worried. 

"  I  think  I  could  fix  up  the  first  objection.  If  I  could 
paint  a  St.  Stephen,  stone-throwing  and  all,  on  a  twelve  by 
six  for  the  Brockton  Chancel,  I  might  bring  the  old  man 
round  all  right,"  he  remarked  thoughtfully ;  "  but  the  other 
thing  is,  as  you  say,  serious.  Except  I  could  get  some  old 
woman  to  swear  I  was  a  foundling,  I  couldn't  straighten 
that  out,  and  even  then  I  haven't  got  the  foundling  man- 
ner. Still  I  hold  it's  the  girl's  opinion  that's  the  final  re- 
sort, and  I  can't  in  decency,  under  the  circumstances,  ask 
her  what  it  is." 

Margaret  was  about  to  reply  when  brisk  steps  on  the 
gravel  outside  arrested  her  attention  and  his.  Reggie 
stepped  hastily  to  the  door  and  was  met  by  the  person 
whose  possible  affections  they  had  just  been  discussing. 
Hilda  was  dressed  in  the  loveliest  of  morning  toilets  and 
was  smiling  radiantly. 

"  I  knew  Madge  was  here,"  she  began,  pausing  in  the 


376  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

doorway  in  some  bewilderment  at  the  confusion  within, 
"because  I  saw  the  pony  tied  outside." 

Reggie,  holding  the  door  open  for  her,  was  regarding 
the  dark  brown  curls  which  clustered  round  Hilda's  ears 
with  a  lover's  inane  rapture.  He  would  have  given  the 
hooka  and  the  Buddha  to  have  possessed  three  hairs  of 
any  one  of  them. 

"  I'd  no  idea  you  were  moving,"  the  girl  exclaimed,  turn- 
ing around  on  the  unfortunate  owner  of  the  packing-boxes. 
"  Where  in  the  world  are  you  going }  " 

"  He's  going  to  work.  Isn't  it  strong  in  him  ?  "  Mar- 
garet put  in  with  irrepressible  satisfaction,  while  the  em- 
barrassed Reggie  was  clearing  a  second  chair. 

"  It  indicates  a  laudable  desire  to  avoid  starvation," 
Hilda  remarked  judicially;  "but  so  long  as  the  strength's 
in  him  and  not  in  the  work,  one  can't  well  measure  it. 
What  particular  labor  is  it  to  ooze  out  on  first  ? "  she  asked, 
her  face  dimpling. 

"  Romeyn  girl  portrait,  Newport,  August,"  Reggie  an- 
swered sententiously. 

"  But  surely  you're  not  going  to  take  all  these  things  on 
to  Newport  to  decorate  the  Romeyn  girl,"  Hilda  expostu- 
lated; "it  will  spoil  the  composition." 

"  He's  going  to  sell  them,"  Margaret  said  with  some 
slight  stiffening  of  manner,  "  sell  them  and  pay  his  debts. 
That's  the  kind  of  strength  /  can  measure  at  any  rate." 

It  seemed  to  her  that  Hilda  was  even  more  flippant  than 
usual.  She  had  not  caught  the  undertone  of  graver  import 
beneath  the  flippancy. 

"  Oh,  Reggie,  you  don't  mean  that  ? "  Hilda  cried  with 
sudden  contrition.     "  You  care  so  much  for  them." 

"  I  care  for  some  other  things  a  good  deal  more,"  the  boy 
said  simply. 

It  struck  Hilda  that  with  this  new  simplicity  he  had  ac- 
quired a  new  manUness  which  became  him  well.    Perhaps,  if 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  377 

they  had  been  alone,  she  would  have  taken  refuge  in  re- 
newed raillery  from  very  fear  that  she  had  shown  too 
much  feeling ;  but  she  was  pleasantly  conscious  that  in 
Margaret's  presence  Reggie  could  hardly  relapse  into  the 
sentimental  and  so  she  gave  him  some  leeway.  Neverthe- 
less she  had  no  intention  of  flattering  him. 

"  I've  always  said  there  was  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't 
succeed,"  she  went  on  cautiously,  "  and  of  course  we  all 
want  you  to." 

"  And  if  I  do  ? "  he  asked  quickly,  more  meaning  in  his 
tone  than  she  had  bargained  for. 

For  once  Hilda  was  disconcerted.  It  was  not  conceiv- 
able that  even  this  reckless  lover  would  declare  himself  in 
the  presence  of  a  third  person,  and  yet  his  last  words  sug- 
gested it.  The  girl's  sense  of  what  was  due  her  was  out- 
raged at  the  mere  thought.  Even  had  they  been  alone  she 
must  have  nipped  this  incipient  movement  in  the  bud.  She 
cared  quite  enough  for  Reggie  Gilbreed  not  to  wish  him  to 
offer  himself  under  circumstances  which  made  her  refusal 
of  him  imperative.  Besides,  it  struck  her  as  a  sign  of  fresh 
weakness  in  him  to  want  a  promised  reward  before  he  had 
begun  to  earn  it.     Therefore  she  went  on  wickedly  :  — 

"  Why,  if  you  do,  of  course  we  shall  all  throw  up  our  hats 
and  cheer ;  but  you  can  hardly  expect  us  to  begin  before 
you've  covered  the  first  lap.  I  should  say  the  Romeyn 
portrait  was  the  first  lap.  When  I  saw  it  last  it  wasn't 
half  covered." 

Even  Reggie  joined  in  the  laugh  which  followed  this 
ingenious  metaphor.     Hilda's  humor  was  contagious. 

"  I  ought  not  to  forget  why  I  ran  you  to  earth,"  she  said 
presently,  turning  toward  Margaret.  "  Papa  was  at  Elm- 
hurst  this  morning  trying  to  find  you ;  he  wants  Cousin 
Ashton's  address." 

"  I  thought  he  knew  Ashton  left  day  before  yesterday  on 
the  Firefly"  Margaret  said  in  some  surprise. 


378  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  So  he  did  ;  but  he's  not  on  her  now.  The  Firefly  had 
just  got  in  when  we  reached  Elmhurst.  Captain  Newberg 
told  us  they  put  Cousin  Ashton  ashore  at  Aiken  yesterday 
morning." 

Margaret  colored  slightly.  She  was  more  or  less  accus- 
tomed to  learning  of  her  husband's  whereabouts  from  other 
people ;  but  it  had  its  annoying  side.  Reggie,  too,  for  some 
unaccountable  reason,  looked  worried. 

"  I'll  drive  over  to  the  Rectory  now,  if  Uncle  Cuthbert's 
there,"  Margaret  said.  "  If,  as  I  suppose,  Ashton  went  on 
to  Philadelphia,  he  could  be  addressed  at  the  Club." 

Hilda,  who  had  seated  herself  on  the  piano  stool,  play- 
ing scraps  of  melodious  nothings  as  she  talked,  got  up  at 
once.  "  I'll  go  with  you,  if  I  may,"  she  put  in  promptly. 
"  I'd  no  idea  the  morning  was  so  far  gone,  which  reminds 
me,  I  met  Dr.  Lindley  on  my  way  over,  and  he  told  me 
there  was  a  turn  for  the  better  in  Mr.  Thallon.  I  always 
liked  him,  didn't  you  }     Isn't  it  glorious  .''  " 

The  brother  and  sister  exchanged  glances. 

Margaret  forgot  all  about  the  Firefly  and  Leverson's  ad- 
dress. Her  heart  had  given  one  irrepressible  bound  out  of 
pure  gladness.  Could  this  be  an  answer }  It  seemed  to  her 
that  Reggie  was  strangely  unmoved  by  the  news,  in  view 
of  what  he  had  said  about  Thallon.  If  he  still  looked 
distrait,  even  anxious,  she  must  of  course  set  it  down  to 
Hilda's  treatment  of  him. 

Perhaps  his  sister  was,  on  her  side,  an  equal  puzzle  to 
Reggie.  If  within  an  hour  she  had  shown  him  the  sadder 
side  of  her  brave  young  heart,  she  treated  him  now  to  an 
exhibition  of  rare  spirits  which  even  Hilda's  could  hardly 
keep  pace  with.  She  managed  to  make  him  understand 
before  she  left  that  she  had  great  hopes  of  Hilda, 
though  his  masculine  density  prevented  him  from  grasp- 
ing the  reason  why. 

Poor  Reggie !     After  he  had  seen  the  phaeton  turn  the 


SMILES  AND  TEARS  379 

corner,  he  went  back  rather  sadly  into  the  old  house.  He 
had,  in  fact,  even  outside  his  own  affairs,  something  to 
worry  about.  He  could  easily  see  the  significance  of 
Leverson's  movements.  He  could  hardly  be  absent  from 
Brockton  at  the  present  juncture  without  some  more  ade- 
quate motive  than  the  improvement  of  his  health.  The 
certainty  of  what  the  motive  was  brought  back  to  the  boy's 
mind  with  vivid  force  the  danger  which  threatened  Mar- 
garet. He  had  said  nothing  to  her  that  morning  about 
herself.  She  had  been  so  responsive  to  his  talk  of  Thallon, 
so  absorbed  in  his  own  problems,  that  he  had  forgotten 
everything  else.  It  had  been  on  his  mind  before  to  tell 
her  that  whatever  came  between  them,  she  could  count  on 
his  love,  and  he  had  meant  to  add,  protection,  and  now  he 
had  let  the  opportunity  pass,  and  had  not  said  a  word. 
Despite  his  heroics,  his  ego  had  got  the  better  of  him 
after  all. 


CHAPTER  XXX 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL 


Margaret  lunched  that  day  at  the  Rectory  and  was,  if 
that  were  possible,  a  greater  puzzle  to  the  Rector  than  she 
had  ever  been  before.  He  had  counted  on  going  to  Elm- 
hurst  again  that  afternoon  to  advise  and  counsel  a  woman 
old  beyond  her  years,  —  a  woman  face  to  face  with  a  great 
moral  problem,  —  when  unexpectedly  he  met  her  at  his  own 
table,  to  find  her  in  brilliant  spirits,  her  face  radiant,  her 
eyes  shining,  a  girl  in  all  the  pride  of  her  girlhood,  a  mere 
child,  with  the  exuberance  of  a  child's  fancy. 

Ever  since  that  last  talk  with  Doniphan,  Cuthbert  Faucon 
had  been  steeling  himself  to  meet  the  issue  that  had  become 
predominant  in  Margaret's  life.  He  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  act  and  act  quickly  in  this  matter,  which  repelled  him 
as  only  a  fastidious  man  can  be  repelled  by  an  unclean 
thing ;  and  though  he  was  doing  this  of  his  own  volition,  he 
was  also  conscious  of  being  spurred  on  by  some  lingering 
echo  of  Doniphan's  words  in  that  recent  and  very  painful 
interview. 

Though  he  regretted  the  part  he  had  been  forced  to 
take,  he  had  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that  the  injustice 
rested  primarily  with  the  other  man,  certainly  not  less  so 
since  he  had  received  a  letter  from  him  —  a  letter  of  regret 
for  words  hastily  spoken,  but  with  no  recantation  of  prin- 
ciples. 

Besides  this,  which  had  kept  him  under  a  nervous  strain 
all  day,  his  deeper  feelings  had  been  strongly  stirred,  when 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  see  Margaret  that  morning,  and 

380 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  381 

yet,  when  he  now  actually  sat  face  to  face  with  her,  her 
utter  unconsciousness,  her  light  mood,  her  rapid  talk,  froze 
him  again  into  his  habitual  reserve. 

Perhaps  he  would  not  have  entertained  much  more  hope 
of  her  if  he  had  known  that  she  was  inwardly  putting  up 
little  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  one  refrain,  one  burden,  run- 
ning through  them  all.  "  He  will  Uve !  He  will  live !  He 
will  live ! " 

She  and  Hilda  kept  her  aunt  in  a  constant  purr  of  con- 
tented amusement.  The  talk  flowed  easily  over  all  Brock- 
ton's recent  events,  and  all  their  comments  were  optimistic. 
Mr.  Thallon  was  sure  to  get  well,  that  was  Hilda's  unavoid- 
able exaggeration.  Reggie  would  be  fairly  overrun  with 
commissions  as  soon  as  he  reached  New  York,  that  was 
Margaret's.  Margaret  was  convinced  Hilda  should  come 
to  Newport  after  leaving  the  seashore,  and  obtained  her 
aunt's  smiling  consent.  There  are  occasions  when  the  bur- 
den is  fitted  to  the  back.  The  good  woman  was  not  in  the 
least  worried  ;  in  Hilda's  absence  the  Rectory  menage  ran 
itself. 

And  meanwhile  not  one  word  about  the  Leversons' 
permanent  desertion  of  Brockton.  There  were  number- 
less opportunities  when  it  might  have  been  brought  in  ;  but 
this  girl  to  whom  it  should  have  meant  so  much,  carefully 
steered  clear  of  it. 

The  Rector,  who  made  no  effort  to  follow  the  lighter 
talk,  consumed  as  he  watched  her  furtively  more  mental 
than  material  sustenance.  He  made  up  his  mind  before 
the  meal  was  over  that  the  Gilbreed  streak  in  Margaret 
was  considerably  more  pronounced  than  he  had  supposed. 
He  was  coldly  polite  and  at  times  absent-minded.  There 
were  moments  when  his  face  hardened  as  he  looked  across 
the  table  at  her.  Yet  through  it  all  those  words  of  Doni- 
phan's came  back  persistently,  —  "Vou  let  her  father  sell 
her  to  Levers on^ 


382  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

If  he  had  known  as  much  of  human  nature  as  he  knew 
of  Hebrew,  he  would  have  known  that  nothing  could  have 
proclaimed  the  girl's  innocence  of  thought  more  completely 
than  her  perfect  naturalness.  Seeing  it  as  he  did,  in  the 
light  of  what  Doniphan  had  told  him,  it  struck  him  as 
a  mere  assumption,  and  shallow  at  that.  If  she  were  try- 
ing to  cover  up  deeper  feeHng,  she  was  certainly  over- 
doing it.  He  did  not  like  her  tone  —  a  tone  he  had  noted 
in  her  before.  To  the  Rector's  mind  it  made  his  arriving  at 
some  sort  of  an  understanding  with  his  niece  more  imper- 
ative than  ever. 

What  he  had  told  Doniphan  about  Margaret's  keeping 
him  at  a  distance  had  been  the  unvarnished  truth.  In  her 
many  serious  talks  with  him  she  had  never,  since  her 
marriage,  brought  herself  or  her  own  troubles  into  them, 
however  remotely.  It  was  not  easy  for  a  man  like  Cuthbert 
Faucon  to  break  through  other  people's  ice  and  force  him- 
self into  the  girl's  confidence ;  but  it  was  a  clear  duty, 
and  he  was  not  going  to  shirk  it. 

She  had  already  given  him  all  the  information  she  had 
about  her  husband's  probable  location,  so  that,  assuming 
he  desired  nothing  more,  she  had,  on  rising  from  the  table, 
come  toward  him  as  if  to  bid  him  good-by  as  he  turned 
again  toward  the  study. 

"  Come  in  a  moment  before  you  go,"  he  had  said,  and 
tried  to  say  it  affectionately  ;  "  there  are  one  or  two  things 
I  want  to  talk  over  with  you  before  you  leave  Brockton." 

His  own  womankind  understood  at  once  from  his  tone 
that  the  purpose  of  the  conference  was  pastoral,  though 
Margaret  was  not  so  quick  to  see  this.  The  sacredness  of 
the  study  to  pastoral  confidence  was  well  ingrained  into 
Mrs.  Faucon  and  Hilda ;  and  if  it  had  not  been,  neither 
would  have  had  any  desire. to  pry  into  it.  Mrs.  Faucon's 
large  fund  of  curiosity  was  confined  entirely  to  things  of 
this  world  ;  while  Hilda  found  quite  enough   exercise   in 


.     GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  383 

developing  her  own  soul  without  assisting  that  of  other 
people.     She  had  none  of  poor  Margaret's  ambitions. 

"  I  must  write  to  Ashton  to-night  myself,"  the  latter 
said,  as  the  study  door  closed  behind  her.  "  I  want  to 
know,  if  possible,  how  much  time  I  still  have  in  Brockton, 
I  have  so  much  to  do." 

"  I  only  learned  yesterday  from  Mobray  Doniphan  that 
you  and  Ashton  intend  giving  up  your  home  here,"  the 
Rector  said  as  he  placed  a  chair  for  her  and  seated  himself 
at  his  writing  table.  "  It  seems  strange  to  me,  Margaret, 
that  with  such  a  momentous  change  hanging  over  your 
life,  you  have  let  me  learn  of  this  through  others." 

She  responded  instantly  to  the  reproach  which  lurked  in 
his  voice,  despite  himself.  Instead  of  taking  the  proffered 
chair,  she  came  around  to  the  side  of  his  and  put  an  affec- 
tionate hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  I  don't  wonder  you  feel  so,"  she  returned,  half  smiling, 
half  serious ;  "  but  you  won't  if  you'll  only  remember  that 
Mr.  Doniphan  already  knew  of  it  through  his  connection 
with  the  Company,  and  that  the  secret  of  the  sale  was  care- 
fully guarded  for  business  reasons.  I  don't  know  anything 
of  the  business  part  of  it,  but  if  Mr.  Doniphan  has  spoken 
of  it>,of  course  I  may.  Ashton's  seUing  the  Works  seems 
to  me  not  only  very  natural,  but  very  right  in  him.  You 
know  he  has  never  cared  for  the  life  here.  I'm  sure  you 
must  feel  this  as  I  do." 

The  Rector  drew  the  girl  down  beside  him,  and  looked 
at  her  thoughtfully.  The  child  had  sat  under  his  preach- 
ing since  she  was  ten  years  old ;  he  had  baptized  her, 
prepared  her  for  confirmation,  married  her,  had  thought 
he  knew  her ;  yet  now,  for  the  second  time  within  an 
hour,  he  had  begun  to  suspect  her  of  lack  of  feeling. 
Nothing  but  his  recollection  of  what  Doniphan  had  said 
made  him  doubt  it,  and  that  thought  brought  him  small 
comfort.     If  indeed  she  had  any  depth  in  her,  it  had  been 


384  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

plumbed  by  others  —  he  had  not  been  permitted  to 
see. 

It  was  not  the  tie  of  blood  between  them  which  made 
this  hurt  him  so.  He  was  her  pastor,  her  parish  priest, 
yet  despite  that  kindly  accent,  that  affectionate  hand  upon 
his  shoulder,  she  was  keeping  him  at  arm's  length  now  as 
she  had  always  done.  He  controlled  himself  with  an 
effort   as   he   said   slowly :  — 

"  And  you  —  you  leave  Brockton  —  you  leave  all  the 
associations  of  your  childhood,  your  nearest  kindred,  your 
first  Church  home,  and,  I  may  say  it  without  egotism,  your 
pastor:  you  leave  all  these  without  regret?  You  come, 
and  in  answer  to  my  questions,  not  before,  tell  me  of 
it,  to  all  outward  seeming  radiantly  happy.  Oh,  Margaret, 
Margaret,  there  are  things  about  you  I  cannot  under- 
stand ! " 

The  radiance  had  all  gone  out  of  her  face  now.  After  a 
daily,  hourly  struggle  to  make  her  renunciation  complete, 
the  success  which  had  crowned  her  efforts  had  only  brought 
her  this.  Yet  she  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  blame 
him ;  his  very  reproach  might  mean  an  affection  in  him, 
not  the  less  grateful  to  her  hungry  young  heart  that  she 
had  never  before  suspected  its  existence.  She  drew  closer 
to  him.  The  eyes  she  fixed  upon  his  face  were  tearless, 
but  wistful. 

"  You  have  not  understood,  if  you  could  think  that  of 
me,"  she  answered  quietly,  though  he  might  have  felt  the 
hand  upon  his  arm  vibrate  slightly.  "  It  was  just  because 
it  was  so  hard,  because  I  was  so  uncertain  of  my  strength, 
that  I  have  not  dared  dwell  on  it.  There  seemed  no  ques- 
tion but  that  it  was  the  right  thing  to  do.  My  husband's 
interests  seemed  the  only  thing  to  consider  —  as  if  every- 
thing else  should  be  put  aside." 

It  never  entered  her  head  that  she  could  have  met  his 
with  a  counter  reproach  ;  that  if  he  had  done  his  duty  by 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  385 

her  years  before,  it  might  have  been  easier  for  her  to  have 
turned  to  him  now.  Above  all,  it  never  occurred  to  her 
that  what  she  was  saying  was  in  itself  a  reproach. 

But  it  was,  and  he  was  quick  to  see  it  He  was  not  pri- 
marily responsible  for  her  marriage ;  but  he  had  not  hin- 
dered it.  Disagreeable  as,  in  a  sense,  it  had  been  to  him, 
he  had  thought  of  it  at  the  time  as  a  possible  means  of 
grace  for  Ashton  Leverson.  Like  Margaret  herself,  he 
had  dreamed  of  its  doing  untold  good ;  yet  this  was  what 
it  had  come  to.  Instinctively  he  glanced  toward  the  place 
in  the  room  where  Doniphan  had  stood  when  he  made  that 
angry  and  most  unjust  retort. 

This  moment,  when  he  had  come  nearest  to  some  touch 
of  self-reproach,  was  the  moment  of  his  greatest  tender- 
ness for  her.  Though  he  was  laboring  under  the  limita- 
tion of  his  right  to  tell  her  what  he  had  heard  of  Leverson, 
one  thing,  at  least,  he  could  say,  —  that  if  the  burden 
became  too  heavy,  there  was  only  one  place  to  turn  for 
help  and  guidance. 

"  My  dear  child,"  he  said  slowly,  "  the  great  question 
with  me  is  whether  in  that  most  natural,  inevitable  doubt 
of  your  own  strength,  you  have  tested  the  strength  of  your 
faith-,  and  have  or  have  not  found  it  wanting  .>*  Forgive  my 
asking  the  question,  my  seeming  doubt  of  your  unswerving 
loyalty  to  Christ  and  to  His  Church ;  but  if  you  have  not 
turned  to  Him  here  and  now,  your  faith  is  vain.  Do  not 
think  I  refer  merely  to  your  going  away.  The  problem 
you  have  been  called  upon  to  face  so  early  in  life  is  not 
merely  a  change  of  residence,  though  that  in  itself  may 
have  been  none  too  easy.  It  is  much  broader  and  deeper 
than  that  (I  speak  without  reserve  because  it  is  my  duty, 
as  well  as  my  right,  as  your  uncle  and  your  pastor),  —  your 
married  life  is  not  happy,  Margaret;  your  hopes  and  my 
hopes  of  Ashton  have  not  been  realized." 

She  started  slightly  at  this  tearing  aside  of  the  curtain 

2C 


386  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

with  which  she  had  so  carefully  covered  her  inner  life. 
Though  his  manner  was  very  gentle,  and  it  had  never  been 
so  warm,  so  intimate,  he  was  making  her  feel  for  the  first 
time  the  claim  of  the  Church,  not  only  on  her  loyalty,  but 
on  her  confidence.  The  hand  of  the  ecclesiastic  was  gloved, 
but  it  was  nevertheless  a  hand  of  iron. 

And  she,  on  her  side,  recognized  a  certain  justice  in  the 
demand,  though  his  point  of  view  had  not  occurred  to  her 
before.  Her  inherent  honesty  prevented  her  from  ascrib- 
ing her  past  reticence  toward  him  to  delicacy  of  feehng, 
for  that  had  not  kept  her  from  giving  her  full  confidence 
to  Doniphan.  It  was  clear  to  her  that  she  had  turned  to 
him  at  a  moment  of  supreme  trial,  not  merely  because  she 
had  found  him  beside  her,  but  because  his  influence  over 
her  had  grown  through  long  years  to  be  an  integral  part 
of  her  life.  Her  confidence  there  had  been  instinctive  — 
her  confidence  here  must  be  forced.  Her  realization  of  it 
was  the  realization  that  she  had  been  at  fault.  It  never 
occurred  to  her  that  the  fault  might  be  Cuthbert  Faucon's. 
She  rectified  it  as  far  as  it  could  be  rectified  in  the  only 
way  open  to  her,  by  being  perfectly  honest. 

"  I  have  never  spoken  of  this  to  you,  Uncle  Cuthbert " 
(her  words  came  slowly,  even  painfully),  "because  I  did 
not  see  how  you  could  help  me.  I  have  never  spoken  to 
any  one  except  Mr.  Doniphan,  and  then  only  once,  under 
great  stress  of  suffering ;  I  blamed  myself  afterward  for 
having  told  even  him.  It  was  not  loyal  to  Ashton,  and  I 
want  to  be  so  loyal.  -  After  all,  it  is  not  a  question  of  my 
happiness  —  only  a  question  whether  I  can  do  what's  right 
—  and  —  and  —  go  on  —  being  loyal." 

It  was  impossible  to  listen  to  the  tone  of  the  girl's  voice 
and  not  be  moved  by  it ;  yet  she  had  struck  a  note  which 
jarred  on  Cuthbert  Faucon's  highly  strung  nerves.  The 
"  having  told  even  him  "  seemed  to  put  Mobray  Doniphan 
on  a  pedestal,  all  the  more  that  she  was  quite  unconscious 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  387 

of  it.  The  Rector's  mortification  was  not  at  all  personal. 
He  was  not  jealous  of  his  own  prestige.  His  next  words 
showed  that  —  were  carefully  chosen  for  that  purpose. 

"  Margaret,"  he  asked,  as  he  took  her  hand  in  his  and 
stroked  it  gently,  "what  do  you  suppose  the  Church  is 
for  ?  It  is  not  an  insurance  company,  guaranteeing  our 
entry  into  heaven  in  return  for  the  acceptance  of  printed 
formulas,  but  a  living  force  which  should  guide  and  control 
us  through  life,  from  cradle  to  grave,  because  it  is  the  cus- 
todian of  Divine  Law.  Men  Hke  Mobray  Doniphan  have 
for  centuries  spent  their  lives  in  trying  to  prove  the 
equality  of  the  ethical  with  the  religious  life,  because, 
quite  sincerely,  they  could  not,  or  thought  they  could  not, 
accept  certain  Christian  doctrines,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
they  wanted  to  be  good.  They  reduce  belief  to  its  lowest 
factor.  A  man's  faith  no  longer  matters  if  it  be  sincere  as 
far  as  it  goes,  his  purposes,  his  life,  based  on  some  sense  of 
obligation  to  a  power  higher  than  himself  —  a  power  he 
does  not  pretend  to  know.  They  have  failed  in  this,  and 
must  always  fail,  and  always  remain  unconscious  of  their 
failure,  because  the  man  who  continues  satisfied  with 
the  moral  can  never  reach  the  higher  level  to  which  it 
leads,  nor  even  want  to  reach  it." 

Margaret's  face  had  flushed  crimson  at  her  uncle's  last 
reference  to  Doniphan.  The  force  of  his  argument  was 
utterly  lost  on  her.  The  woman  in  her  rallied  to  the  support 
of  a  man  whom  she  loved  as  she  had  never  loved  Cuthbert 
Faucon.  She  drew  back,  rising  to  her  full  height,  looking 
down  upon  him  calm-eyed  from  the  greater  distance. 

"I  have  no  means  of  measuring  his  level,"  she  said 
coldly.  "  I  only  feel  instinctively  it  is  a  higher  plain  than 
mine.  Because  he  does  not  believe  as  we  do,  have  we  any 
right  to  say  he  does  not  believe  as  much }  If  I  have  mis- 
read the  man,  perhaps  it  is  because  I  am  not  even  per- 
fectly moral." 


388  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

He  tried  hard  to  be  patient  with  her,  though  her  words 
roused  his  greatest  fear  for  her. 

"You  might  well  be  that,"  he  returned  slowly,  "and 
yet  be  far  from  the  great  Central  Belief  you  have  been 
taught  from  childhood.  Saul  of  Tarsus  was  perfectly 
moral  when  he  persecuted  the  Church,  because  he  was 
doing  what  he  thought  was  right,  and  because  he  had  no 
means  of  knowing.  When,  however,  the  one  means  of 
knowing  was  offered  him,  he  took  it  and  became  some- 
thing more.  Any  other  standard  defeats  its  own  object. 
The  man  who  merely  clings  to  a  moral  law  will  find  it  fail 
him  when  he  needs  it  most." 

His  persistency  had  begun  to  tell  on  her ;  she  knew  per- 
fectly well  toward  what  all  this  was  tending.  She  had 
begun  to  see  that,  granting  his  premise,  his  logic  was 
unanswerable,  and  that,  as  an  orthodox  Christian,  she  was 
bound  to  grant  it.  If  the  Church  were  the  custodian  of 
abstract  truth,  then  it  had  an  answer  ready  for  every  con- 
ceivable emergency.  All  she  had  to  do  was  to  put  herself 
into  its  hands  and  obey  —  as  any  Roman  peasant  would 
have  done.  The  fact  that  Cuthbert's  own  branch  of  the 
Church  was  not  in  the  habit  of  insisting  upon  this  logical 
deduction  did  not  shake  his  position  in  the  least.  Neither 
did  the  fact  that  the  same  line  of  argument  had  justified 
the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  That  was  merely  a 
breach  of  faith  on  the  part  of  a  corrupt  priesthood.  Cuth- 
bert  did  insist  upon  it,  and  he  was  not  corrupt.  His  para- 
mount purpose  in  all  this  was  to  help  her,  she  knew  that 
well  enough,  as  he  went  on  with  increased  earnestness:  — 

"  God  is  the  source,  the  only  source,  of  all  goodness ; 
yet  God  in  His  very  nature  is  unknowable,  becomes  know- 
able  only  through  the  revelation  of  Christ.  That  revelation 
has  come  down  to  us  not  only  through  a  book,  but  through 
an  Organization  which  stretches  back  through  the  ages  to 
the  feet  of  Christ.     If  every  scrap  of  writing  in  the  uni- 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  389 

verse  were  blotted  out,  the  thing  would  live  because  it  is 
Divine,  It  is  our  only  guide,  because  it  is  -the  only  revela- 
tion of  clear  authority  from  God  to  man.  It  was  not 
merely  the  spasmodic  brilliance  shed  by  the  life  of  a  car- 
penter of  Nazareth,  though  in  His  death  and  resurrection 
it  found  its  proof.  It  began  in  the  beginning,  growing  as 
men  grew,  guiding  them,  raising  them,  supporting  them, 
with  their  only  possible  knowledge  of  God,  never  failing 
in  its  benign  influence,  save  by  the  unworthiness  of  its  own 
priesthood.  If  it  has  failed  you  in  your  hour  of  need,  the 
fault  is  mine." 

It  was  clearly  evident  that  he  meant  every  word  he  said, 
that  in  trying  to  help  her  he  was  trying  to  give  her  the 
very  best  he  had  to  give.  A  quick  protest  rose  to  her  lips 
at  his  self-condemnation,  so  painfully  sincere.  She  could 
not  know  that  even  then  he  was  saying  to  himself,  "  Vou 
let  her  father  sell  her  to  Lever  son'' 

"  No,  no,  no  !  "  she  cried,  in  genuine  contrition.  "  There 
is  no  fault  anywhere  save  in  myself.  I  have  been  impa- 
tient with  the  conditions  of  my  own  life.  Forget  that  I 
have  ever  spoken  of  it.     I  will  not,  I  will  not  fail  again." 

She  had  turned  from  him  and  was  walking  restlessly  up 
and  4own  the  room,  a  thing  most  unusual  with  her.  Her 
hands  were  working  nervously  as  she  raised  them  to  her 
throat,  as  if  something  choked  her.  In  doing  so  her  eyes 
caught  the  carved  figure  on  the  great  panel.  Cuthbert 
spoke  again.  That  her  eyes  were  resting  on  the  figure 
did  not  escape  him. 

"  Margaret,"  he  went  on  kindly,  but  with  a  touch  of  stern- 
ness in  his  voice,  "  since  the  day  of  your  confirmation  you 
have  received  at  my  hands  all  the  privileges  of  our  Church. 
I  cannot  believe  you  insincere,  yet  it  seems  to  me  evident 
that  you  find  no  inspiration,  draw  no  strength,  from  your 
belief." 

The  troubled  look  on  her  face  had  deepened  to  positive 


390  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

distress,  but  it  was  not  in  her  nature  to  dodge  an  issue. 
In  her  heart  she  almost  thanked  him  for  having  raised  it 
again  in  a  way  which  forced  an  answer.  He  was  only 
asking  the  same  question  she  had  asked  herself  that  night 
after  she  had  left  Doniphan.  She  had  failed  to  answer  it 
then,  she  answered  it  now,  slowly,  painfully,  but  honestly. 

"  It  is  not  real  to  me,  —  that  is,  as  you  put  it,  a  Living 
Force.  I  am  not  speaking  of  creeds,  of  articles  of  faith  ; 
I  have  always  subscribed  to  them,  perhaps  merely  from  old 
habit,  but  nevertheless  sincerely.  But  what  you  mean  is 
something  more,  something  strong  enough,  not  only  to 
make  us  give  up  happiness,  but  to  give  it  cheerfully,  un- 
complainingly.    I  have  not  been  able  to  do  that." 

Cuthbert's  eyes  glowed.  Fresh  hope  was  stirring  within 
him.  If  she  but  acknowledged  the  Great  Central  Author- 
ity, all  was  well.  To  the  suffering  apostate  he  could  be  as 
cold  as  ice,  for  the  injured  daughter  of  the  Church  he  had 
a  fund  of  sympathy  without  limit  and  without  price. 

"  If  you  are  true  to  the  Faith  itself,  the  rest  will  come," 
he  said,  with  a  gentleness  she  had  never  heard  in  his  voice 
before.  "  You  know  what  it  has  done  for  other  lives,  you 
will  see  what  it  can  do  for  you." 

"  Pray  do  not  misunderstand  me,"  she  cried  earnestly. 
"  I  doubt  much,  most  of  all  myself.  What  good  comes  of 
belief  in  the  fact  of  the  Resurrection  if  you  do  not  feel  its 
Power,  cannot  grasp  its  Purpose?  What  use  of  a  Crucifix- 
ion, a  renunciation,  a  self-annihilation  that  leads  to  nothing 
but  a  triumph  of  wrong }  " 

She  drew  herself  up  abruptly,  feeling  she  had  already 
said  too  much,  and  he,  seeing  she  was  overwrought,  did 
not  press  her  further.  He  merely  said  a  few  encouraging 
words,  nothing  more ;  yet  they  fell  on  deaf  ears.  The 
meeting  had  revived  in  her  all  her  old  suffering.  An  hour 
before  she  had  lost  herself  in  the  happiness  of  others ;  all 
this  had  merely  plunged  her  back  into  that  sea  of  uncer- 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  39 1 

tainty  she  was  trying  to  forget.  Her  association  with  the 
Rectory  study  was  always  the  same  afterward.  It  seemed 
to  her  a  valley  of  unrest,  of  indecision. 

Cuthbert  was  very  far  from  suspecting  this.  He  had 
really  changed  places  with  his  niece;  as  her  spirits  had 
sunk,  his  had  risen.  The  great  dread  in  his  mind  had  not 
been  verified,  —  the  dread  of  a  shaken  loyalty  in.her.  It 
was  the  thing  which  had  come  nearest  to  wrecking  his  own 
life,  the  only  thing  he  really  feared.  But  beyond  all  that, 
he  meant  to  do  what  he  could  to  lighten  the  girl's  load, 
and  his  opportunity  there  was  not  long  in  coming. 

He  had  just  got  back  to  the  study  from  seeing  his  niece 
out  when  the  letters  of  the  noon  mail  were  brought  in.  He 
was  running  them  over  absently,  his  mind  still  on  Margaret, 
when  a  Club  letter-head  and  a  handwriting  caught  his  eye, 
—  the  same  Club  the  name  of  which  Margaret  had  given 
him. 

He  tore  open  the  envelope  hastily.  It  contained  one  of 
the  pleasantest  letters  he  had  ever  received  from  Ashton 
Leverson. 

It  spoke  casually  of  being  detained  in  town  on  business, 
and  regretted  that  in  the  hurry  of  departure  he,  Leverson, 
had  neglected  to  redeem  a  promise  he  had  made  the  Rector 
some  time  since,  the  promise  of  a  substantial  contribution 
towards  the  Chime  Fund.  The  Rector  had,  perhaps,  heard 
by  this  time  that  he,  Leverson,  was  shortly  to  sever  his 
connection  with  Brockton,  and  it  had  struck  him  as  a  nice 
thing  to  make  this  parting  donation  sufficiently  impressive 
to  leave  a  pleasant  flavor  about  his,  Leverson's,  memory. 

(This  was  so  characteristic  of  the  writer  Cuthbert  could 
hardly  refrain  from  smiling,  though  he  was  in  no  genial 
humor.) 

Leverson,  the  letter  went  on  to  say,  had  understood  that 
the  Chime  Fund  still  required  a  thousand  dollars  to  make 
it  effective,  and  he  therefore  took  great  pleasure  in  enclos- 


392  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

ing  his  check  for  that  amount.  He  felt  sure  his  good 
friend,  the  Rector,  would  enjoy  the  contribution  all  the 
more  that  it  was  the  direct  result  of  his,  Leverson's,  fortu- 
nate sale  of  the  Brockton  Works  which  enabled  him,  Lever- 
son,  to  do  the  thing  without  the  slightest  inconvenience  to 
himself.  He  only  hoped  that  Mr.  Faucon  would  regret  as 
much  as  he  did  the  coming  severance  of  their  old  friend- 
ship. He  had  made  the  check  payable  to  him  instead  of 
the  Church  Treasurer  as  a  stronger  mark  of  that  friend- 
ship. 

The  Rector  read  the  letter  over  twice,  and  then  began 
to  dissect  it  piecemeal  It  seemed  well-nigh  impossible 
that  the  words  could  have  been  written  by  a  guilty  man,  — 
yet  that  jocular  reference  to  his  financial  success  told  its 
own  story.  As  far  as  that  part  of  the  indictment  went 
Cuthbert  Faucon  stood  on  firm  ground.  He  need  assume 
nothing  in  returning  the  check  on  that  score.  But  he  had 
no  intention  of  confining  himself  to  that.  He  sat  down  at 
his  desk  and  wrote  Leverson  a  letter  the  like  of  which,  it 
is  safe  to  say,  he  had  never  written  before. 

It  was  the  careful  letter  of  a  man  of  the  world,  soften- 
ing nothing,  yet  taking  nothing  for  granted.  The  check 
was  returned  squarely,  on  the  ground  that  the  Rector  did 
not  care  to  have  his  Church  profit  by  the  Colonel's  and 
Leverson's  late  transactions.  He  then  touched  on  those 
matters  the  mere  mention  of  which  made  Cuthbert  Faucon 
sick  with  disgust.  He  spoke  of  them  merely  as  rumors, 
for  as  yet,  unlike  Doniphan,  he  had  no  confirmation  of 
them,  but  what  he  said  left  no  doubt  but  that  he  believed 
them.  Only  a  line  at  the  end  spoke  of  a  still  possible  re- 
pentance and  mentioned  Margaret.  When  Leverson  read 
that  part  of  it  he  would  at  least  know  that  in  betraying  his 
trust  he  had  got  to  reckon  with  a  force,  which,  while  it 
claimed  a  divine  origin,  was  quite  capable  of  wielding  the 
weapons  of  this  world.     There  was  a  good  deal  more  of  a 


GREAT  THINGS  AND   SMALL  393 

threat  in  it  than  of  appeal.  At  any  rate,  it  was  the  kind 
of  an  appeal  which  could  not  be  answered  by  a  sneer. 
When  he  posted  the  letter  that  afternoon  the  Rector  felt 
that  at  last  the  Church  had  spoken,  and  spoken  very  much 
to  the  point. 

It  *  *  •  •  m  * 

As  Margaret  passed  down  the  Rectory  walk  she  came 
abruptly  upon  a  couple  of  young  people  who  had  made 
themselves  extremely  comfortable  under  the  shade  trees 
which  divided  the  Rectory  lawn  from  the  Church  grounds. 

Hilda  Faucon,  on  a  garden  seat,  was  busily  engaged  in 
constructing  something  of  doubtful  utility  out  of  raw  silk 
and  lace,  while  Reggie  lay  at  her  feet  in  the  Rectory  grass, 
trying  to  play  on  a  small  flageolet. 

He  had  certainly  lost  no  time  in  following  her  to  the 
Rectory,  Margaret  thought,  though  he  seemed  to  have  suc- 
ceeded in  leaving  his  more  serious  mood  of  the  morning 
behind  him.  Both  he  and  Hilda  suspended  their  respec- 
tive employments  as  they  caught  sight  of  her. 

"  Do  come  and  join  us,"  the  younger  lady  called  out 
almost  eagerly,  dropping  a  monument  of  raw  silk  on 
Reggie  as  she  hastened  towards  Margaret.  "  You've 
spent  every  minute  of  your  time  with  papa,  so  far." 

"  No,  I  mustn't,  though  I  rather  envy  you.  What  have 
you  found  to  do  out  here  ?  " 

"  We're  improving  our  minds,"  Reggie  remarked  smil- 
ingly, as  he  joined  them.  "  You  improved  yours  long  ago, 
so  we  mustn't  keep  you  if  you've  got  any  engagements." 

Margaret  agreed  with  him  despite  Hilda's  protest.  She 
was  not  capable  just  then  of  following  Reggie's  varying 
moods;  the  best  she  could  do  was  to  wave  the  lovers  a 
smiling  farewell  as  she  drove  off.  She  could  see  plainly 
enough,  that  if  they  were  not  as  yet  entirely  happy,  they 
would  be  all  in  good  time.  She  was,  at  last,  pretty  sure  of 
Hilda's  sentiments,  and  that  was  the  all-important. 


394  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

It  may  have  been  selfish  in  her,  but  for  the  moment  her 
own  affairs  claimed  her  rather  imperatively.  Without  her 
volition  the  question  had  risen  in  her  mind,  Would  they, 
Mobray  Doniphan,  Cuthbert  Faucon,  and  the  rest,  have  met 
this  life,  which  stretched  before  her,  through  interminable 
years,  rejoicing  in  its  opportunity  of  self -negation  ?  And 
she  was  so  young  and  life  might  have  been  so  sweet  to  her. 

Margaret  had  left  the  three  infant  Lindleys  safely 
under  the  shadow  of  the  parental  rooftree,  and  was  driving 
slowly  through  Brockton  on  her  way  home.  The  main 
street  was  so  much  more  crowded  than  usual  that  after- 
noon that  her  attention  became  gradually  more  and  more 
absorbed  in  the  task  of  guiding  her  pony  through  its  thick- 
ening maze  of  vehicles  and  pedestrians.  Presently  he 
came  to  a  full  stop  in  a  hopeless  jam  of  country  wagons, 
covered  buggies,  and  dodging  foot  passengers,  where  either 
turning  or  going  forward  seemed  equally  impossible. 

Roused  by  the  necessities  of  the  situation,  she  glanced 
across  this  barrier  and  discovered  the  cause  of  the  conges- 
tion in  a  densely  packed  mass  of  human  beings  in  the 
street  beyond,  —  a  mass  that  stretched  unbrokenly  across 
the  street  and  over  the  grounds  of  the  old  Town  Hall. 

Across  the  heavy  posts  and  rail  of  its  white  wooden 
steps  a  rough  platform  of  planks  had  been  raised,  and  on 
this  platform  a  man  was  speaking.  Margaret  recognized 
instantly  the  graceful  carriage  of  the  tall  figure, — the 
bared  head  surmounted  by  its  crown  of  long,  wavy  hair. 
Curiously  the  thought  of  him  had  come  to  her  but  a  few 
minutes  before,  coupled  with  the  word  "  martyrdom,"  yet 
as  she  first  caught  sight  of  him  he  seemed  much  less  a 
personification  of  martyrdom  than  of  triumph. 

The  crowd  were  listening  to  every  word  that  fell  from 
his  lips  with  an  eagerness  almost  hungry.  Though  she 
was  too  far  away  to  hear  what  was  said,  she  could  see  the 


GREAT  THINGS  AND  SMALL  395 

human  mass  sway  under  his  words ;  could  feel  the  vibra 
tion  that  ran  from  the  inner  to  the  outer  ranks  ;  could  hear 
the  low  murmur  that  rippled  across  its  surface  like  the 
first  breath  of  a  storm  across  still  water. 

All  at  once,  as  she  sat  watching  it,  it  broke  in  answer  to 
some  sharp,  crisp  sentence  of  the  speaker,  into  a  roar  of 
applause  that  rose  and  swelled  and  lingered  like  a  peal  of 
thunder  over  the  sea  of  uplifted  arms  and  upturned  faces. 

"  'E's  come  out  flat-footed  at  last  for  ther  hultimatum,  'e 
'as,"  Mr.  Gillis  remarked,  as  he  pushed  his  way  out  of  the 
throng  toward  the  freer  space  on  the  curb  near  where 
Margaret  had  drawn  up.  "  Hit  means  ther  settlin'  of  hall 
differences  betwixt  th'  Union  and  th'  Brotherhood.  That's 
wot  yer  git  from  'avin'  street  preachin' !  Hi  calls  hit 
immoral,  hi  does !  " 

"  Curious  beggar  that,"  another  man  remarked,  as  he 
carefully  lit  a  short  clay  pipe.  "  Got  the  tongue  of  a 
politician,  he  has,  but  he'll  turn  tail  fast  enough  when  the 
fight's  once  on.  Them  glib  talkers  is  all  alike,  and  don't 
ye  forgit  it !  " 

But  these  speakers  were  in  an  apparently  hopeless 
minority,  to  judge  from  the  vigorous  protest  instantly  be- 
stowed on  their  expressed  opinions,  so  vigorous  that  both 
the  opinions  and  their  authors  presently  melted  away  into 
the  safer  distance. 

Margaret  had  been  watching  it  all  curiously,  but  now 
her  eyes  were  drawn  irresistibly  to  the  centre  of  interest 
on  the  platform.  He  was  speaking  more  rapidly  now, 
bending  forward  slightly,  hand  outstretched  as  if  in  per- 
sonal appeal.  Then  the  voice  ceased,  he  stepped  back  on 
the  rough  planks,  and  made  a  motion  as  if  to  enjoin  silence. 

But  it  was  too  late  then.  Till  now  he  had  been  carrying 
the  crowd  with  him,  but  as  he  finished  speaking  it  slipped 
through  his  fingers  and  got  beyond  his  control.  In  fact 
the  mighty  shout  which  burst  from  five  hundred  throats 


396  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

actually  drowned  his  last  words.  A  black  mass  of  human- 
ity was  already  surging  around  the  planks  on  which  he 
stood.  In  a  twinkling  they  were  upon  the  shoulders  of 
fifty  men,  the  idol  of  the  moment  standing  there  in  mute 
protest  against  the  storm  he  himself  had  raised, 

Down  the  street  they  came,  the  spectators  making  way 
for  them  as  best  they  might,  while  taking  up  the  cry  which 
had  reached  them  from  those  nearer  the  front. 

"  They  can't  sell  us  with  the  Works !  " 

Several  women  were  laughing  and  crying  hysterically. 
Many  men  were  laughing ;  some  were  swearing.  Marga- 
ret had  been  recognized  by  several  pairs  of  angry  eyes. 
One  man  bawled  out  the  name  of  Leverson,  coupled  with 
an  oath. 

The  situation  was  fast  becoming  dangerous  for  the  girl, 
though,  lost  in  the  bitter  revelations  which  had  just  come 
to  her,  she  did  not  think  of  that.  She  had  heard  vaguely 
that  the  sale  of  the  Leverson  Works  was  not  popular 
among  the  workmen,  but  had  supposed  that  it  came  from 
a  natural  reluctance  to  part  with  Leverson's  liberal  man- 
agement. She  had  not  dreamed  of  this  point  of  view. 
Was  she  then  fated  to  leave  Brockton  amid  the  curses  of 
people  whom  she  had  known,  at  least  by  sight,  all  her  life  ? 

The  raised  platform,  borne  in  triumph  on  the  human 
stream,  was  passing  her  at  the  instant.  Some  one  had 
placed  a  rush-bottom  chair  upon  it,  and  they  had  forced 
the  idol  into  it.  He  sat  there,  looking  down  upon  the  up- 
turned faces,  no  light  of  triumph,  but  that  expression  of 
unutterable  sadness  she  already  knew  so  well,  upon  his  own. 

Was  he  reading  the  fate  of  his  own  Cause  in  this  mighty 
overflow  of  the  passions  of  a  populace  he  had  tried  to 
guide  and  failed }  Was  he  thinking  at  the  moment  that 
he  should  give  his  life  to  it  —  for  nothing .-' 

It  was  then  that  his  eyes  caught  hers.  Never  to  the 
end  of  her  life  did  she  forget  the  look  that  came  into  his 


GREAT  THINGS  AND   SMALL  397 

face.  She  had  been  leaning  forward  breathlessly,  intense 
interrogation,  the  eternal  question,  on  her  slightly  parted 
lips  and  in  her  eyes.  He  made  a  slight  gesture  of  the 
hands,  —  his  lips  smiled,  moved,  and  he  passed  on. 

The  spell  was  broken  the  moment  he  was  gone.  The 
crowd  had  surged  up  against  the  jam  of  vehicles;  the 
major  part  of  it  was,  as  yet,  good-natured,  but  it  was  dis- 
tinctly rough. 

"That's  Leverson's  wife  !  "  one  woman  shouted,  pointing 
a  dirty  index  finger  at  Margaret.  "  She's  got  the  profits 
of  the  deal  up  her  sleeve.     Let's  divide." 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  this  sally. 

"  She  might  give  us  a  ride,  anyhow,"  suggested  a  huge 
raftsman,  with  a  loud  guffaw;  "there's  just  room  enough 
fer  me  in  thet  'ere  little  kirridge." 

This  banter  failed  to  intimidate  Margaret;  it  merely 
roused  her  indignation.  The  farther  end  of  the  street  was 
clearing  rapidly.  She  tried  to  turn  the  pony's  head  toward 
an  opening  when  the  man  who  had  spoken  last  seized  the 
bridle.     Things  were  at  a  crisis  with  Margaret. 

Some  one  swung  up  into  the  seat  beside  her. 

"  Suppose  you  let  me  drive,"  a  familiar  voice  remarked 
pleasantly.  "That's  right,  Briggs!  Turn  him  a  bit  more, 
will  you  ?     So !  we're  off !  " 

Mobray  Doniphan  had  taken  the  reins  out  of  her  hands, 
and,  before  she  knew  what  he  was  about,  was  driving  rap- 
idly toward  Elmhurst.  The  mob  gave  them  a  parting 
cheer  indicative  of  high  approval,  the  little  man  being 
extremely  popular. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  "  Margaret  asked,  having 
collected  herself,  and  glancing  back  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Mere  squall,"  Doniphan  rejoined,  smiling  at  her  re- 
assuringly ;  "  but  if  you  refer  to  the  near  future,  it  means 
war ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

OF   CONTROLLING   INTERESTS,    FINANCIAL   AND    OTHERWISE 

The  next  two  weeks,  though  crowded  to  their  fullest 
capacity  for  most  of  the  actors  in  this  small  drama, 
brought  no  climax. 

The  ominous  growl  of  the  wage-earners  of  Brockton 
had  been  succeeded  by  no  further  signs  of  madness. 
That  dangerous  animal.  Organized  Labor,  though  clearly 
irritable,  was  not  frothing.  There  was  as  yet  no  earthly 
excuse  for  shooting  it.  Its  ultimatum,  that  on  the  first 
day  of  September  it  would  accept  no  scale  but  the  old 
scale,  seemed,  for  the  time  at  least,  to  have  satisfied  its 
desire  for  self-assertion. 

The  new  Company  had  taken  quiet  possession  of  the 
Leverson  Works,  and  the  men  were,  to  all  seeming, 
quietly  fulfilling  their  contract ;  yet  there  was  a  subdued 
excitement  noticeable  underneath  the  surface  calm,  a  cer- 
tain activity  among  the  professional  agitators,  many  meet- 
ings after  working  hours. 

At  this  period  the  Slathers  contingent,  in  complete 
control  of  the  old  Union,  w^s  assiduously  cultivating 
that  smaller  body  in  which  Meyer  had  made  himself  felt, 
and  the  association  of  the  higher  mechanics,  still  much 
under  the  influence  of  Mobray  Doniphan. 

They  had,  in  fact,  in  times  past,  owed  him  a  good  deal. 
His  position  as  a  stockholder  and  Director  of  the  old  Com- 
pany had  been  used  more  than  once  to  further  what  he 
had  considered  their  rights,  though  he  had  never  forgotten 

398 


OF  CONTROLLING  INTERESTS  399 

that  he  represented  other  stockholders  besides  himself.  It 
had,  of  course,  been  merely  a  question  of  influence,  not 
of  voting  power.  Whenever  any  one  of  his  ideas  had 
taken  shape,  it  had  been  only  by  his  convincing  Leverson 
and  Whitelaw  that  it  was  a  wise  thing  to  do. 

And  now  that  he  had  neither  power  nor  influence  with 
their  employers,  his  following  did  not  seem  inclined  to  for- 
get him.  On  the  contrary,  when  it  was  discovered  that  he 
had  refused  to  have  anything  to  do  with  the  new  Manage- 
ment, his  popularity  visibly  increased.  The  entente  cor- 
diale  between  the  various  factions  was  for  the  moment 
well-nigh  perfect,  too  perfect  for  the  peace  of  mind  of 
Colonel  Mortimer  Gilbreed. 

That  first  open  threat  of  the  allied  labor  forces  was  not 
only  still  causing  the  Senator-elect  much  uneasiness,  but 
had  begun  to  cause  him  some  tangible  embarrassment. 
Rumors  of  impending  trouble,  not  only  in  Brockton,  but 
in  other  places,  had,  of  course,  been  fully  discussed  by 
an  enterprising  press;  and,  as  a  natural  consequence, 
an  impatient  public  had  not  as  yet  shown  any  signs  of 
"  taking  hold "  of  those  magnificent  opportunities  for 
investment  offered  them  by  certain-  disinterested  and 
patriotic  gentlemen. 

The  stock  of  The  Consolidated  had  dropped  to  par  and 
then  to  eighty.  If  Higgins  had  only  had  the  sense  to 
cover  at  these  figures,  the  Colonel  could  have  forgiven  him  ; 
but  instead  of  doing  that  the  man  "went  short"  more 
heavily  than  ever. 

The  situation  was  becoming  —  from  the  Colonel's  stand- 
point—  a  trifle  hazy.  The  men  who  were  to  stand 
"shoulder  to  shoulder"  were  all  standing  just  where  he 
had  left  them  when  he  got  back  to  Philadelphia.  They 
were  even  willing  to  show  him  their  certificates,  if  he 
would  take  the  trouble  to  step  around  to  some  of  the 
banks  where  they  were  deposited  as  collateral  for  sundry 


400  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

small  loans.  (The  Consolidated  was  only  taken  on  a  large 
margin  at  that  time.) 

Of  course  there  was  a  leak  somewhere.  The  Colonel 
found  it  when  he  found  Leverson. 

It  had  been  a  habit  of  some  years'  standing  with  Lever- 
son  to  raise  what  ready  money  he  needed  by  the  simple 
expedient  of  selling  securities  outright.  Under  the  Colonel's 
tutorship,  however,  Leverson  had  seen  a  new  light,  and, 
anxious  to  show  himself  progressive,  had  improved  on  his 
former  methods  by  putting  up  his  outside  securities  and 
selling  The  Consolidated  short.  He  told  the  whole  story 
to  his  father-in-law  with  unpardonable  pride. 

The  Colonel  very  seldom  swore,  but  he  swore  then  most 
damnably.  He  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  go  through 
his  usual  formula  about  robbing  the  widow  and  the  orphan. 
He  tersely  explained  to  Leverson  that  when  no  one  wants 
to  buy  a  stock,  the  forced  sale  of  a  very  small  amount  of 
it  upsets  things  dreadfully.  Leverson's  defence  that  he 
had  been  counting  on  that  eager  and  impatient  public,  as 
prophesied  by  the  Colonel,  was  worse  than  his  offence,  and 
only  made  the  latter  angrier  than  ever.  He  inquired  icily 
why  any  one  should  sell  a  stock  short  when  they  expected 
it  to  go  up,  or  why  doing  so  should  be  expected  to  put  it 
up.  Beyond  this  the  Colonel  refrained  from  argument 
with  a  man  whose  powers  of  penetration  had  not  pre- 
vented him  from  bearing  his  own  securities.  He  merely 
waived  aside  further  controversy  with  a  weary  smile 
expressive  of  "What's  the  use.'" 

Although  Leverson  had  by  this  time  received  his  allot- 
ment of  stock,  the  Colonel  so  far  rectified  matters  as  to 
make  him  buy  back  in  open  market  every  share  he  had 
sold,  which  he  was  able  to  do  at  a  profit.  To  the  day 
of  his  death  Leverson  could  never  see  why  he  had  not 
managed  that  part  of  the  business  very  well. 

This  last  move  came  in  the  nick  of  time.     Some  other 


OF  CONTROLLING   INTERESTS  4OI 

people  besides  Higgins  began  to  grow  uneasy  and  to  buy, 
and  for  the  first  time  the  gentlemen  standing  shoulder  to 
shoulder  became  valuable.  As  they  were  not  a  purchas- 
ing syndicate,  they  were  of  no  earthly  use  on  a  falling 
market,  but  when  the  market  began  to  go  up  they  were 
worth  their  weight  in  gold.  They  had  promised  they 
wouldn't  sell  under  two-seventy,  and  they  wouldn't. 

Things  began  to  look  sunny  again  for  the  Great  Com- 
bine, but  it  was  in  this  hour  of  comparative  calm  that  the 
Colonel  began  to  take  serious  counsel  with  himself. 

He  had  begun  to  see  that  he  was  playing  a  game  which 
can  only  be  played  safely  on  a  very  large  scale.  Even 
when  Higgins  came  to  him  a  few  days  later  and  begged 
for  mercy,  the  Colonel  was  by  no  means  elated.  He 
was  kind,  and  (considering  the  circumstances)  even  gentle 
with  Higgins,  but  he  was  very  firm.  Due  regard  for  his 
own  safety  prevented  him  from  being  anything  else. 

To  the  usual  appeal  that  Higgins's  wife  and  children 
would  assuredly  suffer  starvation  in  case  of  that  gentle- 
man's failure,  the  Colonel  responded  that  Higgins  himself 
should  have  thought  of  that  before  maturing  plans  for 
stabbing  him  (the  Colonel)  and  his  associates  in  the  back. 
The  Colonel  was  pained,  deeply  pained,  at  his  inability  to 
assist  him,  but  how  could  he  possibly  do  so  without  going 
back  on  men  who  had  stood  by  him  nobly  in  his  hour  of 
need. 

Nevertheless,  after  he  had  smilingly  bowed  out  Higgins, 
the  Colonel  became  pensive  again.  For  the  time  being 
he  had  the  upper  hand,  but  the  situation  was  feverish,  far 
too  feverish  for  solid  comfort.  Leverson  had  become 
restless  again  and  might  at  any  moment  kick  over  the 
traces. 

While  in  far-away  Brockton  several  much  better  men 
than  himself  had  been  worrying  over  his  morals,  Lever- 
son  had  been  enjoying  himself  after  his  own  sweet  fashion  ; 


402  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

but  with  the  Colonel's  advent  he  had  awakened,  not  to 
the  danger  of  losing  his  soul,  but  to  the  much  more 
tangible  danger  of  losing  his  money.  The  Colonel  had 
been  quite  right  in  assuring  Doniphan  that  no  one  could 
handle  Leverson  as  he  could,  but  even  his  hold  might 
sHp  at  any  moment  now. 

In  the  meantime  numerous  articles  were  appearing  in 
the  financial  press,  discussing  with  a  painful  lack  of  en- 
thusiasm the  prospects  of  the  Consolidated  Car  Company. 
Any  strength  the  stock  had  was  attributable  to  short  cov- 
ering, and  that,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  could  not  last. 
It  seemed,  in  short,  quite  possible  to  the  thoughtful  Colonel, 
that,  after  ruining  Higgins,  he  and  Leverson  might  be 
ruined  in  turn. 

Without  in  any  way  admitting  this  to  his  sensitive  and 
easily  alarmed  son-in-law,  the  Colonel  at  this  juncture  made 
a  move  which,  whether  it  led  to  success  or  failure,  was 
calculated  to  put  him  out  of  his  misery. 

After  long  consultations  with  numerous  gentlemen  in 
Philadelphia,  he  took  Leverson  on  to  New  York  to  see  an 
Eminent  Specialist  on  the  cruel  nervous  disease  from  which 
he,  the  Colonel,  was  suffering,  and  which  Leverson  was 
liable  to  take  at  any  time. 

Now  there  are  certain  localities  on  this  planet  where 
one  must  step  carefully  if  one  would  avoid  getting  his 
toes  trodden  upon.  The  shadow  of  Trinity  Church  covers 
an  area  where  no  one's  toes  are  safe  for  a  moment  if  they 
do  not  drive.  Stepping  on  other  people's  toes  has  always 
been  a  favorite  amusement  of  the  place,  and  though 
originally  instituted  by  the  natives  as  a  harmless  little 
game  to  be  played  at  the  expense  of  the  outsider,  the 
outsiders  have  since  become  so  numerous  and  skilful  that 
even  the  native's  toes  have  become  exceedingly  sensitive. 

Leverson,  whose  manners  were  sufficiently  overbearing 
to  make  him  easily  mistaken  for  an  habitu^  of  the  place, 


OF  CONTROLLING  INTERESTS  4O3 

went  down  Wall  Street  on  foot  quite  uninjured.  Many 
professional  heel-and-toe  performers  got  out  of  his  way 
in  a  hurry,  he  looked  so  dangerous  ;  but  the  Colonel,  whose 
natural  courtesy  made  him  as  conspicuous  as  if  he  had 
recently  powdered  his  hair  with  hay-seed,  preferred  to 
take  a  cab  through  the  mazes  of  this  great  arena  where 
this  charming  sport  ever  goes  merrily  on,  —  where  the 
wicked  do  not  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are 
not  at  rest. 

The  place  is  not  what  careless  criticism  has  so  often 
asserted  it  to  be,  a  mere  gambling  hell  on  a  gigantic  scale. 
If  it  were,  its  potency  for  evil  would  be  comparatively 
limited.  The  misfortunes  of  Canfield's  Card  Rooms  do  not 
keep  conservative  business  men  and  bona  fide  investors 
awake  o'  nights.  True,  it  has  its  inveterate  gamblers,  who, 
like  the  Colonel,  drift  toward  it  as  inevitably  as  the  summer 
moth  drifts  toward  its  alluring  beacon  of  burning  kero- 
sene, but  they  come  to  be  scorched,  or  to  escape  scorching, 
drift  away  again,  and  are  deservedly  forgotten. 

But  the  fuel  which  feeds  this  ever  burning  Aladdin's 
lamp  is  drawn  from  no  less  a  source  than  the  industries  of 
a  Great  Nation,  —  industries  from  which  millions  of  men 
must  draw  their  daily  bread,  and  into  which  millions  of 
men  and  women  must  put  their  daily  savings.  Here  at 
last  the  Colonel's  brilliant  figure  of  speech  becomes  a  hard 
reality.  He  is  quite  right,  you  cannot  injure  him  without 
injuring  them  also.  Even  here  the  storms  of  adversity  or 
the  sunshine  of  prosperity  fall  alike  on  the  just  and  on 
the  unjust.  Even  here  the  brotherhood  of  man  holds 
good.  Even  here  the  mystery  of  evil  is  as  impenetrable 
as  ever. 

But  there  is  a  third  element,  which,  for  any  proper 
understanding  of  this  curious  locality,  must  be  taken  into 
account,  as  the  Colonel  was  even  then  taking  it  into  ac- 
count most  carefully. 


404  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

The  Eminent  Specialist  in  whose  outer  office  the  Colonel 
and  Leverson  are  now  humbly  waiting  represents  this 
third  element  to  perfection.  This  man  never  openly 
enters  the  game  going  on  outside,  yet  the  game  could  not 
go  on  a  moment  without  him.  He  is  no  more  afraid  of 
the  stock-market  than  the  Almighty  is  of  a  thunder- 
storm, and  for  the  same  reason,  —  because  he  controls  it. 

His  serious  business  in  life  is  the  loaning  of  other 
people's  money,  with  the  pleasing  alternate  of  refusing  to 
loan  it.  In  the  first  instance  the  market  goes  up  ;  in  the 
second,  down.  If  he  should  so  far  forget  himself  as  to 
buy  anything,  it  could  never  be  anything  short  of  a  con- 
trolling interest,  and  then  only  when  its  profitable  sale  is 
already  contracted  for. 

He  is,  in  short,  a  sort  of  financial  agriculturist  on  an 
enormous  scale.  By  an  ingenious  system  of  irrigation  he 
can  bring  his  crop  to  maturity  with  marvellous  despatch 
and  absolute  certainty,  and  its  market  lies  at  his  very  door. 
His  prosperity  is  so  great  that  it  has  developed  in  him  a 
liberal,  not  to  say,  generous  disposition,  so  generous  that 
he  frequently  insists  on  loaning  money  to  corporations,  the 
minority  stockholders  of  which  do  not  want  to  borrow  it. 
A  small  majority  are,  curiously  enough,  always  anxious  to 
borrow  it  on  almost  any  terms. 

By  these  simple  means  this  gentleman  has  accumulated 
a  gigantic  fortune,  and,  what  he  prizes  still  more  highly, 
a  gigantic  reputation.  On  the  mere  rumor  that  he  is  about 
to  take  hold  of  a  property,  people  in  the  street  outside 
tumble  over  each  other  to  get  the  stock.  Whenever  he 
floats  an  issue  of  bonds  at  par  they  invariably  go  to  a  pre- 
mium before  they  have  floated  as  far  as  the  next  corner. 
The  friendship  of  such  a  man  to  any  one  anxious  to  lay 
aside  a  little  money  for  his  old  age  is  as  cold  water  to  a 
thirsty  soul. 

Now  the  Colonel,  who  had  known  this  gentleman  very 


OF  CONTROLLING  INTERESTS  4OS 

well  in  times  past,  was  not  foolish  enough  to  come  to  him 
with  anything  less  than  a  controlling  interest  buttoned  up 
in  the  breast  pocket  of  his  light  sack  coat.  He  had  spent 
a  week  and  considerable  labor  in  Philadelphia  getting  it 
together,  and  he  counted  on  it  to  secure  a  pleasant  recep- 
tion for  himself  and  Leverson  at  the  hands  of  this  honest 
agriculturist  who  sat  behind  a  mahogany  desk  in  the  inner 
office  when  they  were  ushered  in. 

Whether  it  were  that  or  the  Colonel's  assured  political 
position  which  made  the  greater  man  decently  civil  there 
is  no  means  of  knowing,  but  civil  he  was  from  the  very 
start,  though  at  first  he  was  not  very  encouraging.  He 
actually  took  the  necessary  time  and  trouble  to  point  out 
the  serious  error  so  far  made  in  the  organization  of  the 
Consolidated  Company,  reminding  the  Colonel  that  it  had 
taken  in  very  few  of  the  Western  plants,  and  must,  there- 
fore, meet  keen  competition  from  the  start.  He  remarked 
that  the  construction  of  the  thing  was  hopelessly  provincial ; 
that  it  carried  too  much  sail  and  not  enough  ballast,  and 
showed  a  painful  tendency  to  upset  before  it  was  fairly 
launched. 

Without  continuing  the  metaphor,  the  Colonel  inquired 
if  this  difficulty  could  not  be  overcome  by  pumping  more 
water  into  it,  whereupon  the  great  man  admitted  that 
more  complicated  things  had  been  done,  and  confessed  that 
the  bonded  debt  of  the  concern  was  ridiculously  small. 

Leverson,  much  depressed  by  all  this,  especially  by  that 
reference  to  the  Western  plants,  saw  visions  of  long  jour- 
neys before  him,  but  presently  revived  again  on  learning 
that  the  Western  plants  were  locked  up  in  a  safe  deposit 
box  belonging  to  a  gentleman  just  across  the  street.  The 
Eminent  Specialist  could  not  possibly  see  this  gentleman 
at  that  time  as  he,  the  Specialist,  was  already  overdue  at  a 
vestry  meeting  uptown,  but  he  would  see  him  the  next  day 
and  report  if  anything  could  be  done. 


406  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

The  Colonel  had  an  awful  night  of  it  with  Leverson, 
who  had  begun  to  show  the  first  symptom  of  that  dan- 
gerous nervous  malady.  He  wanted  to  know  a  great  many 
unreasonable  things,  amongst  others  why  two  lame  ducks 
tied  together  should  sell  any  better  than  one  lame  duck. 
He  wanted  to  get  out  of  the  thing  then  and  there  while  he 
could  do  so  at  a  handsome  profit. 

The  Colonel  explained  to  him,  with  marvellous  patience, 
that  the  Stock  Exchange  doors  were  closed  to  him,  and 
that  two  thousand  shares  would  break  the  market  on  the 
curb ;  that  such  ducks  as  they  had  for  sale  could  only  be 
sold  here  when  properly  branded,  and  that  the  Eminent 
Specialist  owned  the  brand.  If  he  could  once  be  per- 
suaded to  give  their  little  enterprise  his  benediction,  the 
popular  passion  for  ducks  would  be  practically  unappeas- 
able. It  was  not  a  case  of  taking  less  and  being  satisfied, 
but  a  case  of  taking  a  great  deal  more,  or  nothing. 

It  was,  in  fact,  a  horrid  night  for  the  warm  and  weary 
Colonel,  but  he  had  his  reward.  When  he  came  down  the 
steps  of  the  Eminent  Specialist's  office  the  next  afternoon 
he  felt  as  if  all  his  cares  and  worries  in  this  world  were 
over,  and  he  had  not  as  yet  begun  to  worry  about  the  next. 

There  had  been  a  conference  of  various  interests,  and 
the  Eminent  One  had  been  persuaded  to  take  hold.  The 
gentleman  with  the  Western  plants  secreted  somewhere 
about  his  person  had  made  some  trouble,  but  had  been 
"brought  round."  Even  the  Colonel  was  a  little  hazy  as 
to  the  exact  conditions,  but  he  had  got  the  net  result  down 
on  paper  and,  though  it  was  not  two-seventy,  he  was 
forced  to  admit  that  it  was  "enough." 

It  seemed  hardly  possible  that  less  than  two  weeks 
before  he,  Mortimer  Gilbreed,  had  been  actually  trying  to 
bribe  a  man  like  Meyer  to  shut  down  on  an  incipient  strike 
in  a  two-cent  Pennsylvania  town.  The  man  who  was  run- 
ning the  thing  now  was  more  indifferent  to  strikes  than 


OF  CONTROLLING   INTERESTS  407 

he  was  to  mosquitoes,  and  had  probably  forgotten  by  this 
time  that  there  was  such  a  place  as  Brockton.  Brockton, 
the  Colonel's  point  of  departure,  had  become  a  small  speck 
on  the  horizon  by  this  time.  However,  he  sent  Whitelaw 
his  promised  cipher  telegram,  advising  him  of  these  late 
transactions  and  guaranteeing  a  satisfactory  market  within 
a  month  or  two. 

In  spite  of  Whitelaw's  threatened  independence,  the 
Colonel  was  very  sure  he  had  not  sold  a  share.  When 
the  worst  was  said  of  him,  Whitelaw  was  a  gentleman.  Of 
course  the  Colonel  advised  against  any  negotiations  with 
Slathers ;  it  was  a  positive  delight  to  him  that  such  dirty 
work  of  the  Company  was  actually  over.  They  could 
strike  now  to  their  hearts'  content,  for  anything  he  cared. 

Then  and  then  only  did  the  Colonel  find  time  to  write 
to  Doniphan.  He  had  been  safe  from  Doniphan's  inter- 
ference for  the  last  ten  days,  for  he  had  been  carrying 
Leverson  round  with  him  so  that  nobody  could  hurt  him ; 
but  under  the  flush  of  his  late  success  he  felt  he  could 
assert  himself  with  considerable  vigor,  and  that  he  owed 
it  to  his  own  dignity  to  do  so. 

The  letter  was  curt  to  an  extent  most  unusual  with  the 
Colonel.  He  began  by  informing  his  correspondent  that 
he  had  not  thought  it  wise  to  discuss  with  Leverson  the 
painful  subject  which  he,  Doniphan,  had  so  unnecessarily 
brought  up  at  their  last  meeting  in  Brockton.  To  have 
done  so  would  have  been  to  offer  Leverson  a  gratuitous 
insult,  and,  as  perhaps  Doniphan  was  aware,  Leverson  was 
not  a  man  to  be  insulted  with  impunity.  If  it  was  any 
satisfaction  to  Doniphan  to  know  it,  he,  the  Colonel,  had 
found  Leverson  deeply  immersed  in  important  business, 
and  obviously  as  unacquainted  as  he  was  indifferent  to 
the  whereabouts  of  that  wretched  young  woman  whose 
name  he  had  forgotten.  He  should  not  have  taken  the 
trouble  to  refer  to  the  matter  again  had  it  not  been  that 


408  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

he  wished  to  caution  Doniphan  against  spreading  that 
sort  of  despicable  gossip  any  farther.  If  it  spread,  he 
should,  of  course,  feel  in  duty  bound  to  call  Leverson's 
attention  to  it,  which  Doniphan  must  see  would  make 
things  most  unpleasant  in  view  of  Leverson's  violent  tem- 
per. He  ended  with  some  airy  remarks  about  his  late 
financial  success,  and  remained  forever  very  truly  Doni- 
phan's. 

If  the  Colonel  had  been  in  truth  and  verity  Doniphan's 
own  forevermore,  that  wiry  little  gentleman  could  hardly 
have  looked  more  disgusted  as,  after  its  perusal,  he  crushed 
the  Colonel's  delicately  scented  note  into  a  shapeless  mass 
between  his  long  muscular  fingers. 

A  moment  later,  however,  he  carefully  smoothed  it  out 
again  on  his  table  blotter  and  went  to  consult  with  Thal- 
lon,  who  for  the  last  day  or  two  had  been  convalescing  at 
the  Hill  Farm. 

He  found  him  propped  up  on  the  lounge  of  one  of  the 
large  ground-floor  bedrooms,  where  Doniphan's  house- 
keeper had  just  left  him  well  employed  with  a  large  bowl 
of  broth.  Save  for  a  bandaged  head  and  arm,  the  pallor 
of  his  face,  and  somewhat  sunken  cheeks,  the  young  man 
did  not  look  much  worse  for  the  cowardly  crime  of  which 
he  had  been  the  victim.  He  held  his  bandaged  head  as 
high  as  ever  and  was  evidently  not  off  the  board  as  yet. 

Remembering  his  invalidism,  Doniphan  had  tried  to  be 
reasonable  in  his  drafts  upon  Thallon's  slowly  returning 
strength,  but  he  had  been  unable  to  deny  himself  one  or 
two  long  "  talks  "  with  him. 

The  conditions  which  had  brought  these  two  so  abruptly 
into  a  closer  fellowship  had  not  been  the  deliberate  choice 
of  either.  Doniphan  had  not  in  any  strict  sense  offered 
Thallon  his  confidence ;  he  had,  quite  unexpectedly,  since 
that  last  interview  with  Reggie,  found  the  younger  man 
possessed  of  it.     Thallon,  on  his  side,  had  done  nothing  to 


OF  CONTROLLING  INTERESTS  409 

force  himself  into  this  new  relationship;  he  had  simply 
waked  to  find  himself  there. 

Though  the  trust  as  yet  had  been  all  on  one  side,  it 
had  been  thorough  ;  Doniphan's  present  errand  needed  no 
explanation.  Without  preface  he  put  the  Colonel's  letter 
into  Thallon's  hand. 

"  Read  that,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  of  it,"  was  all 
he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


THE    BARRIERS    BREAK    DOWN 


Thallon  had  evidently  been  employed  during  the 
morning,  for  the  farther  side  of  the  table  was  strewn  with 
bundles  of  letters  and  papers.  A  leathern  vaHse  bound  in 
brass  lay  wide  open  on  the  floor  below,  while  beside  it 
Twist  kept  careful  guard.  Since  Thallon's  advent  at  the 
Hill  Farm,  Twist  had  deserted  Doniphan. 

The  young  man  took  the  note  without  speaking  and  read 
it  hurriedly,  as  if  he  had  been  anxiously  waiting  for  it, 
Doniphan  watching  him  narrowly  meanwhile,  the  quirk  in 
the  corner  of  his  mouth  expressive  of  several  things. 

Its  perusal  was  not  lengthy.  The  Colonel's  little  com- 
position in  black  and  white  covered  barely  two  sides  of  a 
sheet  of  letter  paper,  yet  the  change  which  passed  over 
the  reader's  face  as  he  ran  his  eye  over  the  sprawling, 
irregular  lines  was  enough  to  satisfy  even  Doniphan. 

"  You  see  I'm  practically  told  to  mind  my  own  business," 
he  remarked  grimly,  as  Thallon  dropped  the  paper  and 
looked  up  at  him.  "  Gilbreed  thinks  that  if  Leverson 
comes  back  to  Brockton  with  due  regard  for  outside  ap- 
pearances, my  hands  are  tied.  He  thinks  that  under  those 
circumstances  I  won't  tell  Margaret  or  do  anything  else  to 
bring  on  a  crisis.     All  he  wants  is  time." 

"  And  yet  the  crisis  has  got  to  come,"  the  other  man 
returned,  with  something  like  elation  in  his  voice.  "  Ash- 
ton  Leverson  will  never  change,  and  sooner  or  later  she 
must  know." 

410 


THE  BARRIERS   BREAK    DOWN  4II 

"  Yes,  sooner  or  later  she  must  know,"  Doniphan  re- 
peated moodily ;  "  the  unknown  quantity  in  the  problem  is 
not  what  effect  her  hearing  of  it  will  have  on  Leverson, 
but  what  effect  it  will  have  on  Margaret.  Reggie's  idea 
is  that  she  would  leave  him  instantly.  Well,  suppose  she 
does?" 

Thallon  swung  himself  round  on  the  couch,  his  eyes  on 
fire. 

"  Any  tribunal  —  any  court  —  any  church  —  would  set 
her  free,"  he  cried  hoarsely. 

Doniphan's  eyes  met  his  squarely.  Thallon  felt  as  if 
they  were  reading  the  deepest  depths  in  him, 

"  Free  to  marry  again  ? "  the  elder  man  asked  com- 
posedly. 

The  hot  color  mounted  to  Thallon's  face.  Doniphan 
could  see  the  pulse  in  his  temples  throbbing, 

"  After  long  years  why  not  ? "  the  younger  man  de- 
manded defiantly. 

"  Well,  largely  because  she's  Margaret  Leverson,"  Doni- 
phan returned  slowly.  "  We  none  of  us  move  except 
within  certain  limits  built  round  us  by  what  we  call  our 
consciences.  Very  wide  limits  sometimes  such  as  enclose 
Leverson,  very  narrow  ones  such  as  hedge  in  a  girl  like 
his  wife,  I  have  fought  zealously  against  the  life  which 
such  a  conscience  might  make  her  live  with  Leverson,  but 
I  can  picture  to  myself  a  still  worse  life  without  him.  She 
is  very  young ;  everything  as  yet  lies  before  her.  There's 
hardly  any  question  but  that  in  the  years  to  come  she 
would  meet  some  one  she  might  have  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know,"  the  other  put  in  eagerly ;  "  and  you 
would  deny  her  right  .■*  " 

"  No,  I  would  not,  but  she  would.  She  would  never 
marry  while  he  lived.  Her  struggle  now  is  easy  compared 
to  what  it  would  be  then ;  she's  tied  to  him,  whether  she 
breaks  with  him  or  not,  down  to  his  grave  or  hers." 


412  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Thallon  rose  to  his  feet,  swaying  slightly,  but  more  from 
excitement  than  weakness.  He  rejected  with  an  impatient 
motion  of  the  head  the  supporting  arm  Doniphan  hastened 
to  offer. 

"  It's  monstrous,  cruel,  brutal,"  he  said  huskily. 

"  I  grant  all  that,"  Doniphan  returned  quietly,  "  all  the 
more  readily  because  the  position  you  take  is  the  same  I've 
taken  many  a  time  before.  I  told  Faucon  I  wouldn't  see 
her  lead  the  life  her  mother  did  if  I  could  prevent  it,  and 
I  won't;  but  I've  got  to  prevent  it  some  other  way  than 
that,  —  I've  got  to  bring  some  pressure  to  bear  on  Lever- 
son." 

Thallon,  who  had  taken  a  step  or  two  across  the  room, 
paused  abruptly  and  turned  a  strangely  startled  face  tow- 
ard the  elder  man. 

"  You've  already  tried  that  and  failed,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  know.  I  miscalculated  his  desire  to  keep  this 
last  episode  quiet.  He  did  want  to  keep  it  quiet  at  first, 
but  on  discovery  he  merely  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  tells 
you  to  do  your  worst.  I  had  a  note  from  Cuthbert  Faucon 
some  time  since,  enclosing  a  copy  of  a  letter  he  wrote 
Leverson,  —  a  strong,  manly  letter,  —  and  Leverson's  an- 
swer. The  last  shows  pretty  conclusively  how  much 
Leverson  cares  for  mere  opinion  ;  even  the  comparatively 
valued  opinion  of  such  a  man  as  Faucon.  He  does  not 
even  take  the  trouble  to  deny  the  charge.  I  doubt  if  he 
would  have  done  so,  even  if  he  had  been  innocent.  I 
believe  now  he  would  not  care  a  farthing  if  his  wife  were 
told  of  the  affair  to-morrow.  After  all,  Faucon's  right ! 
If  the  man  could  only  be  made  afraid  of  hell,  we  might  do 
something  with  him." 

Thallon's  eyes  were  fixed,  not  on  the  speaker,  but  on  a 
long  yellow  envelope  hastily  torn  open,  which  lay  with  the 
other  mail  matter  on  the  table  beside  him. 

"  He  cares  for  nothing  but  his  position,"  he  said  slowly, 


THE   BARRIERS  BREAK  DOWN  413 

as  if  he  were  thinking  aloud,  "  and  fears  nothing  in  heaven 
and  earth  but  the  loss  of  it." 

Doniphan  emitted  one  of  these  low  guttural  sounds  in- 
dicative of  extreme  disgust. 

"  Even  that  might  not  be  effective,"  he  growled.  "  A 
week  ago  I  thought  his  chances  of  losing  his  money  were 
fairly  good.  In  fact  he's  been  worried  about  losing  it  these 
last  two  months,  but  that  hasn't  reformed  him.  I  confess 
I  thought  the  Colonel  had  engineered  him  into  a  position 
where  some  one  man  could  have  controlled  the  situation 
and  dictated  terms,  but  that's  past  now.  For  once  in  his 
life  the  Colonel's  brought  his  little  gamble  into  port. 
They've  got  the  backing  they  wanted  in  New  York ;  you 
see  he  refers  to  it.  Bah !  The  Heathen,  as  Faucon  calls 
him,  bows  down  to  good  eighteen  carat  gold,  these  days. 
Money  reig^is,  it  pays  for  what  it  wants,  and  the  opinions 
of  a  few  poor  devils  like  ourselves  may  go  hang." 

Thallon  had  picked  up  the  yellow  envelope  and  was 
turning  it  over  mechanically  in  his  hand.  When  he  spoke 
again,  after  a  pause,  it  was  with  slightly  increased  emphasis. 

"  Then  you  don't  think  that  if  Leverson  lost  his  money 
it  would  kill  him  ? "  he  asked,  with  slightly  knitted  brows. 

"  Kill  him  !  No  such  luck,  it  wouldn't  even  improve 
him,"  Doniphan  said,  with  his  habitual  angry  snort. 
"  If  the  crash  actually  came,  he  wouldn't  turn  to  earning 
his  own  living;  he  couldn't  do  it  now,  even  if  he  wanted  to. 
He'd  simply  take  to  gambling  on  a  smaller  scale.  Every 
dollar  he  could  beg  or  borrow  would  go  on  to  cards  or  horses. 
Perhaps  morally  speaking  he's  no  better  than  that  now;  but 
the  larger  game  isn't,  when  all's  said,  quite  so  nasty  as  the 
other  thing.  The  gambler's  wife  doesn't  have  to  sit  up  for 
him  all  night  in  a  dingy  third-story  back  room.  The  butler 
does  the  sitting  up,  and  they  have  separate  rooms." 

The  bitter  irony  of  the  words  hardly  covered  the  intense 
sadness  lying  beneath  them.     Thallon  shivered.     The  pic- 


414  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

ture  of  such  a  life  for  her  had  been  slowly  forcing  itself 
upon  him,  but  he  had  not  yet  admitted  it  as  inevitable. 
During  these  last  weeks  of  convalescence  he  had  fought 
against  it  stubbornly,  aiding  his  willing  mind  to  think  of 
her  as  something  apart  from  Leverson.  No  !  such  a  mon- 
strous sacrifice  could  be  asked  neither  of  her  nor  of  him- 
self. Sooner  or  later  she  would  learn  what  the  man  was, 
break  from  him,  —  and  then  !  — 

Now,  however,  what  Doniphan  had  said  of  her  rang  true. 
For  a  woman  like  Margaret  Leverson  the  tie  would  hold, 
go  where  she  would.  If  the  man  lost  his  money,  she  was 
all  the  more  Hkely  to  stick  to  him.  In  spite  of  his  own 
bruised  spirit  a  great  wave  of  reverence,  which  might  have 
been  sentiment,  but  was  healthy  sentiment,  swept  over  him 
as  he  thought  of  it. 

"  You  spoke  of  bringing  some  sort  of  pressure  to  bear 
on  him  ?"  he  said,  with  a  note  of  inquiry  in  his  voice. 

"  Ah,  that's  different.  If  the  man  owed  his  fortune  to 
me,  I'd  make  conditions." 

"  Ah,  but  would  he  hold  to  them  .?  " 

"Yes;  whatever  else  he  is,  Leverson  is  not  a  liar.  Curi- 
ously enough  he  finds  his  limit  there,  as  we  all  find  it  some- 
where. He'd  stick  to  an  agreement  if  one  could  be  forced 
on  him.  But  what's  the  use  of  wasting  breath  on  that; 
such  situations  don't  occur  in  real  life." 

Both  men  had  spoken  with  increasing  rapidity.  Thal- 
lon's  growing  excitement  had  communicated  itself  to  Doni- 
phan without  his  quite  comprehending  it.  The  former  had 
drawn  a  typewritten  letter  out  of  the  yellow  envelope,  had 
seated  himself  before  the  table,  and  spread  out  its  closely 
written  sheets  before  him.  It  contained  an  enclosure  which 
had  a  legal  look  about  it. 

"  Things  like  that  don't  happen  every  day ;  but  they  do 
happen,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden  change  of  manner. 

"  Things !     What  things .? " 


THE   BARRIERS   BREAK   DOWN  415 

"  Things  that  control,  situations  that  dominate  even  men 
like  Leverson.  It's  not  unthinkable  that  one  of  his  liter- 
ary hacks  might  supply  a  means,  might  become  a  factor  in 
such  a  situation.  I  say  might,  for  as  yet  the  work  is  only 
half  done,  but  it  might  be  furnished  in  time,  in  time  to 
help  her." 

Doniphan  looked  at  his  companion  with  serious  disquie- 
tude. He  had  noticed  his  first  excitement,  its  abrupt  col- 
lapse into  the  almost  studied  calm  with  which  he  had 
uttered  those  last  words,  a  calmness  fitting  ill  with  the  in- 
coherence of  the  words  themselves.  Had  he,  Doniphan, 
asked  too  much  of  a  man  just  recovered  from  serious  shock  ? 
Was  it  possible  that  under  this  added  strain  Owen  Thallon's 
brain  had  given  way  .■' 

"  My  dear  boy,"  Doniphan  said,  with  quick  compunc- 
tion, as  he  put  a  kindly  hand  on  the  other's  shoulder, 
"  don't  try  and  think  it  out  to-day.  I  did  wrong  to  bother 
you  about  it  now." 

Thallon  looked  up  at  him  over  his  shoulder,  a  curious 
smile  playing  about  his  mouth.  He  knew  quite  well  what 
was  passing  in  the  other's  mind.  He  had  been  carefully 
putting  together  the  half-dozen  typewritten  sheets  that 
lay  on  the  table  before  him.  There  was  no  trace  of  hesi- 
tation in  his  manner  as  he  turned  and  handed  them  to 
Doniphan.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  what  he  was 
going  to  do  some  little  time  before. 

"  The  story's  a  long  one,"  he  remarked,  in  answer  to  a 
look  Doniphan  gave  him  as  he  took  them,  "but  it's  put 
down  there  as  concisely  as  it  can  be.  As  you  said  of  the 
Colonel's  note  just  now,  '  Read  it,  and  tell  me  what  you 
think  of  it.'  " 

Mad  as  he  was,  there  was  certainly  method  in  him. 
Doniphan's  pained  sense  that  he  must  humor  a  crazy  man 
was  contending  now  with  a  deeper,  subtiler  sense  that  he 
was  upon  the  brink  of  a  clearer  understanding  of  impor- 


4l6  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

tant  things.  He  must  have  divined  it  from  the  cool 
assurance  of  the  other's  tone. 

It  was  perhaps  predominant  as  he  fixed  his  eyes  on 
the  paper  which  might  hold  the  key  to  this  enigma. 

The  first  page  contained  a  short  business  letter  dated 
Belle  Plain,  Iowa,  July  8,  1891,  which  ran  as  follows:  — 

Mr.  Owen  Thallon,  Everett  House,  Brockton,  Pa. 

Dear  Sir,  —  Your  favor  of  the  —  inst.  reached  us  two  weeks  since, 
as  we  acknowledged  at  the  time.  Owing  to  Mr.  Warner's  absence  from 
town,  we  were  unable  until  now  to  comply  with  either  of  the  two  re- 
quests contained  in  that  letter.  Your  desire  that  the  photograph  you 
sent  be  submitted  to  Mr.  Warner  has  now  been  fulfilled,  but  we  are 
sorry  to  say  that  he  was  unable  to  identify  it  as  a  portrait  of  John 
Thallon. 

As  you  already  know,  Mr.  Thallon's  dealings  with  his  firm,  some- 
thing over  twenty-seven  years  ago,  brought  him  very  little  into  personal 
contact  with  Mr.  Warner.  Almost  all  Mr.  Thallon's  transactions  with 
this  firm  were  conducted  through  its  then  senior  partner,  Mr.  Murray, 
who  died,  as  you  are  also  aware,  three  years  ago.  Mr.  Warner  re- 
members to  have  seen  Mr.  Thallon  but  twice.  Mr.  Thallon  was  at  the 
time  a  smooth-faced  young  man  of  perhaps  two  or  three  and  twenty. 
This  portrait  of  a  heavily  bearded  man  of  forty-five  or  fifty  bears,  as  far 
as  Mr.  Warner  is  able  to  see,  no  resemblance  to  him.  The  photograph 
is  therefore  returned  with  regret  at  our  inability  to  assist  you. 

Your  second  request,  that  we  forward  to  you  a  certain  affidavit  made 
by  Mr.  Murray  at  your  request  about  six  months  before  his  death  in 
1888,  said  aflS davit  covering  all  the  facts  and  circumstances  which  con- 
nected him  with  John  Thallon  between  the  early  spring  of  1863  and 
that  date,  is  cheerfully  complied  with.  You  will  observe  that  the  aflii- 
davit  is  duly  sworn  to  before  a  Justice  of  the  Peace  of  this  township. 
It  contains  nothing,  we  believe,  you  are  not  already  fully  acquainted 
with  through  Mr.  Murray,  but  it  has  unquestionably  a  certain  legal 
value  as  evidence,  as  it  was  intended  to  have. 

If  at  any  time  we  can  be  of  any  further  service  to  you  in  this  matter, 
we  shall  be  pleased  to  receive  your  commands. 

Yours  very  truly, 

Enclosures.  Warner  &  Wright. 

Doniphan  did  not  even  glance  at  Thallon  as  he  turned 
over  the  page  to  the  next  document   in   the   case.     The 


THE  BARRIERS   BREAK   DOWN  417 

-room  was  deadly  still,  the  breathing  of  the  dog  at  Thallon's 
feet,  the  rustle  of  the  paper,  had  become  noticeable, 
Doniphan's  brows  were  hard  knit  as  he  took  in  the  head- 
ing of  the  next  paper. 


°^^    fss; 


Affidavit  of  Andrew  Murray 
Attorney  at  Law 
State  of  Iowa 
County  of - 

Andrew  Murray,  being  duly  sworn,  deposes  and  says  :  — 

That  he  is  a  citizen  of  the  City  of  Belle  Plain,  Iowa,  and  senior  mem- 
ber of  the  firm  of  Murray  &  Warner,  Attorneys,  of  that  city,  and  well 
known  to  be  such. 

That  he  first  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  man  calling  himself  John 
Thallon,  early  in  the  month  of  May,  1863.  That  the  said  John  Thallon 
was  then  known  to  deponent  by  reputation,  as  a  manufacturer  of  steel 
wagon  springs  in  the  town  of  Belle  Plain.  That  upon  the  occasion 
aforesaid  said  Thallon  made  application  to  deponent,  or  to  deponent's 
said  firm,  for  a  loan  of  ten  thousand  (10,000)  dollars,  and  oflfered  as 
security  therefor  his  manufacturing  plant,  exhibiting  also  to  deponent 
a  signed  contract  between  himself  and  the  United  States  Government, 
for  a  large  number  of  springs  for  army  ambulances. 

That  after  proper  investigation  the  said  loan  was  obtained  for  said 
Thallon  by  deponent's  firm. 

That  during  the  year  1864,  the  Government  having  refused  to  accept 
certain  products  of  his  factory,  said  Thallon  became  much  embarrassed, 
if  not  bankrupt.  That  he  thereupon  turned  over  such  assets  as  he 
then  had  to  the  firm  of  Murray  &  Warner,  and  much  against  advice  of 
deponent  gave  up  all  connection  with  the  business.  That  some  time 
afterward  said  Thallon  enlisted  in  Company  B,  Fifth  Iowa  Infantry,  and 
about  six  weeks  subsequently  deponent  discovered  in  a  Belle  Plain 
newspaper  the  name  of  the  said  John  Thallon  in  the  list  of  "Missing" 
during  McCook's  Raid  on  Lovejoy  Station,  Georgia,  on  or  about  July  27, 
1864. 

That  during  the  month  of  September,  1864,  a  young  lady,  hitherto 
known  to  deponent  as  Miss  Lucy  Owen,  a  school-teacher  of  Belle  Plain, 
called  at  his  office  and  offered  incontestable  proof  that  she  had  been 
secretly  married  to  the  said  John  Thallon  previous  to  his  enlistment, — 
that  is  to  say  in  May,  1864.  That  the  proof  offered  was  a  certificate  of 
marriage  duly  signed  by  the  officiating  clergyman  and  witnessed  by  two 
persons  still  living  in  the  near-by  town  of ,  where  the  ceremony 


4l8  THE   BEATEiV   PATH 

took  place.  That  the  said  certificate  was  retained  by  deponent,  at 
Mrs.  Thallon's  request,  until  many  years  afterwards  it  was  given  by 
him,  together  with  her  other  papers,  to  her  son,  Owen  Thallon,  who 
was  born  at  Belle  Plain  on  the  fifteenth  of  February,  1865.  That 
Mrs.  Thallon  survived  the  birth  of  this  son  something  less  than  a 
month. 

That  upon  her  deathbed  she  informed  deponent  that  she  was  with- 
out immediate  family,  and  that  as  far  as  she  knew  her  husband,  John 
Thallon,  had  left  no  relatives.  That  the  woman  with  whom  Mrs. 
Thallon  lodged  (a  Mrs.  Allen)  had  taken  a  fancy  to  the  child  and 
wished  to  adopt  it.  That  at  the  earnest  request  of  both  women  depo- 
nent was  preparing  the  necessary  papers  to  carry  out  this  design  when 
a  middle-aged  lady,  calling  herself  Miss  Thallon,  an  aunt  of  John  Thal- 
lon, called  at  his  office,  together  with  a  second,  much  younger,  woman, 
who  appeared  to  be  a  servant  or  companion.  That  upon  being  told 
the  situation  Miss  Thallon  not  only  made  no  objection  to  the  proposed 
adoption,  but  seemed  rather  eager  to  have  it  carried  out. 

That  at  Mrs.  Thallon's  earnest  request  the  adoption  of  the  child  by 
Mrs.  Allen  took  place  at  once,  and  that  the  next  day,  to  wit,  March  10, 
1865,  Mrs.  Thallon  died. 

That  upon  the  day  following  Mrs.  Thallon's  funeral  both  Miss  Thal- 
lon and  her  companion  left  Belle  Plain  without  again  communicating 
with  deponent. 

That  it  subsequently  came  to  the  knowledge  of  deponent  that  Miss 
Thallon  had,  before  her  departure,  settled  certain  outstanding  debts  of 
Mrs.  Thallon,  and  had  left  with  Mrs.  Allen  a  small  sum  of  money  en- 
closed in  an  envelope.  That  this  envelope  bore  in  the  upper  corner 
the  letter  head  of  Hartley  &  Bald,  Attorneys,  Harrisburg,  Penn. 

That  deponent  received  no  communication  from  any  relative  of  said 
John  Thallon  for  the  next  ten  years. 

That  at  the  end  of  that  period,  that  is  to  say,  in  April,  1875,  depo- 
nent received  a  post-office  order  for  one  hundred  dollars  mailed  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  addressed  to  him  as  attorney  for  Owen  Thallon,  by  which 
name  the  boy  continued  to  be  called.  That  the  envelope  this  remit- 
tance came  in  contained  nothing  but  the  order  itself.  That  remittances 
of  this  character  were  received  by  deponent  with  more  or  less  regular- 
ity, between  the  years  1875  and  1883,  being  always  mailed  in  Philadel- 
phia, but  never  from  the  same  postal  station  twice  in  succession.  That 
toward  the  end  of  that  period  they  increased  considerably  in  amount, 
so  that  Owen  Thallon  was  sent  to  college  with  this  money. 

That  shortly  after  Mrs.  Allen's  death,  in  1883,  an  attempt  was  made 
by  deponent  to  communicate  with  the  sender  through  Messrs.  Hartley 


THE  BARRIERS  BREAK  DOWN  419 

&  Bald,  an  unsuccessful  attempt,  that  firm  advising  deponent  that  they 
knew  of  no  one  by  the  name  of  Thallon. 

That  from  that  date  all  remittances  ceased. 

That  the  total  amount  received  by  deponent,  as  above,  was  in  the 
neighborhood  of  three  thousand  dollars,  for  which  deponent  accounted 
to  Owen  Thallon. 

That  through  the  entire  period  of  twenty-three  years,  that  is  to  say, 
from  1864  to  1887,  deponent  had  believed  John  Thallon  to  be  dead  and 
Miss  Thallon  to  be  his  son's  benefactor,  but  that,  in  the  latter  part  of 
1887  (soon  after  Owen  Thallon's  graduation),  deponent  received  a  brief 
letter  dated  at  a  New  York  City  hotel,  and  signed  John  Thallon,  said 
letter  enclosing  a  draft  for  the  amount  of  judgments  against  him  in 
Belle  Plain,  with  interest,  and  requesting  deponent  to  settle  the  same 
and  return  a  release  to  the  address  given.  That  in  this  letter  John 
Thallon  made  no  mention  of  either  his  wife  or  son. 

That  deponent  immediately  wrote  to  said  Thallon,  expressing  sur- 
prise at  his  long  silence,  supposing  him  to  be  aware  of  his  son's 
existence  through  Miss  Thallon,  and  informing  him  as  far  as  possible 
about  the  boy.  That  the  following  day  the  firm  of  Murray  &  Warner, 
having  followed  Mr.  Thallon's  instructions,  returned  him  the  desired 
releases. 

That  to  these  communications  neither  deponent  nor  the  firm  of 
Murray  &  Warner  have  received  any  reply  from  Mr.  Thallon  up  to  the 
date  of  this  affidavit. 

That  deponent  immediately  communicated  the  facts  above  stated  to 
Mr.  Owen  Thallon,  then  in  the  East.  That  since  then  (June,  1887) 
Mr.  Owen  Thallon  has  had  the  management  of  this  mysterious  case  in 
his  owbT  hands. 

(Signed)    Andrew  Murray. 
Belle  Plain,  Iowa, 
Signed    and    sworn   to   before ) 

me  this  —  day  of ,  1888.  J 

Abner  Best, 

Justice  of  the  Peace. 

Doniphan  rolled  up  the  neatly  fastened  sheets  of  fools- 
cap with  mechanical  precision.  Nevertheless,  his  hand 
shook  a  trifle.  Both  men  were  deathly  pale ;  the  younger 
man  had  been  restlessly  fingering  a  small  photograph 
which,  until  Doniphan  began  reading,  had  lain  face  down- 
ward on  the  table.      He  put  out   his  hand   for   it   now 


420  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

without  speaking.  He  knew  well  enough  what  it  was,  — 
a  connecting  link  (perhaps  the  only  one)  between  the  mys- 
tery of  the  younger  man's  life  and  several  other  lives 
closely  touching  his  own. 

In  silence  Doniphan  scanned  the  small  piece  of  card- 
board searchingly,  as  if  he  would  have  forced  its  story  out 
of  the  stubborn,  rugged  face  he  saw  there  by  sheer  force 
of  will.  His  brain  rose  to  the  strain  upon  it  with  the 
discipline  given  it  by  years  of  training.  He  had  entirely 
forgotten  Thallon's  last  words  about  Margaret,  had,  to 
say  truth,  forgotten  Margaret  herself  for  the  moment. 
His  keen  sense  of  justice  had  ranged  itself  instantly  on 
the  side  of  the  man  who  sat  there  watching  him  closely. 
He  was  piecing  things  together,  confirming  dates,  unearth- 
ing motives.  All  at  once  everything  seemed  to  swing 
into  its  place  as  if  by  magic.  The  complete  sequence  of 
events  was  as  clear  to  him  as  if  he  had  just  docketed 
incontestable  proof  of  every  item  in  it.  He  was  so  busy 
thinking  that  he  left  it  to  Thallon  to  speak  first. 

"  He  died  knowing  —  and  —  without  making  any  sign." 

The  tone  of  the  younger  man's  voice  betrayed  the  pre- 
dominant, impelling  force  which  had  held  him  through 
these  last  ten  years  to  one  settled  purpose.  The  Lever- 
son  money  could  not  have  done  it.  He  had  not  known 
of  its  existence  then.  No !  What  he  had  wanted  was 
the  name,  not  because  he  honored  or  respected  it,  but 
because  its  absence  was  a  stigma,  and  because  it  belonged 
to  him. 

"  I  doubt  his  knowing,"  Doniphan  went  on  rapidly,  as 
if  he  had  already  annexed  the  Thallon  mystery  and  felt 
bound  to  clear  it  up  instanter.  "  He  died  less  than  a  week 
after  he  learned  the  truth.  I  remember  perfectly.  He 
was  taken  ill  in  New  York,  and  came  home  and  died  with- 
out making  any  fuss  about  it  as  his  manner  was.  Ashton 
Leverson   and  Whitelaw  were  somewhere  in  the  South, 


THE  BARRIERS  BREAK  DOWN  421 

They  got  here  the  day  John  Leverson  died,  but  he  was 
unconscious  by  that  time.  He  had  been  feverishly  anx- 
ious to  see  his  brother,  so  Lindley  told  me.  Even  with 
Lindley,  the  only  man  who  saw  him,  he  was  as  dumb  as 
an  oyster,  the  same  close-mouthed,  impenetrable  man  he'd 
always  been." 

"  If  he  gave  no  information,  he  asked  none,"  Thallon 
put  in  bitterly.  "  He  lived  all  those  years  believing  his 
wife  and  his  son  dead  without  one  inquiry." 

"  Without  knowing  his  son  had  ever  been  born,"  Doni- 
phan corrected  eagerly.  "  He  had  that  miserable  woman's 
word  for  that.  Why  should  he  go  farther  for  information  } 
She  was  with  his  wife  when  she  died." 

"  What  purpose  could  she  have  had  ?  There  was  no 
money  then  to  guard." 

"  There  were  debts  to  keep  him  away  from.  Even  with 
a  debit  balance  Miss  Laurie  was  very  cautious.  She  had 
her  ambitions  for  him,  and  from  her  point  of  view  they've 
been  justified.     That's  why  she  lied  to  him." 

"  Yes,— but  when  he  knew  !  " 

"  It  was  too  late  then.  I  believe  now  he  was  anxious  to 
make  some  sort  of  settlement  which  should  be  just  to 
Ashton.  The  telegram  to  Whitelaw  had  been  sent,  as 
Lindley  supposed,  in  plenty  of  time,  —  but  was  it  .■•  A 
delay  of  twelve  hours  would  have  been  enough.  Who 
had  the  handling  of  that  piece  of  yellow  paper.**  The 
only  one  save  Lindley  who  knew  that  Leverson's  life  had 
narrowed  down  to  a  question  of  hours.  Lindley  would  have 
told  her,  but  not  the  sick  man  himself.  Yes,  I  see  that 
clearly  enough.  She  must  have  deceived  even  the  clever 
Whitelaw.  His  being  in  an  out-of-the-way  place  was 
sufficient  explanation  of  the  delay  to  him." 

"  Deceived  for  the  time,  yes ! "  Thallon  said  thought- 
fully, "  but  not  for  long.  When  I  came  on  the  scene  our 
family  lawyer  had  the  full  use  of  his  faculties.      He  sus- 


422  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

pected  me  at  the  very  start  through  Jane  Kirk's  partial 
recognition.  He  has  not  been  idle  since,  either.  While 
I've  been  at  the  hospital  he's  been  through  my  mail.  You 
told  me  he  had  charge  of  it." 

Doniphan  began  to  see  a  new  meaning  in  many  things. 
He  expressed  his  joy  thereat  by  a  long,  low  whistle.  Then 
he  stopped  abruptly,  perceiving  another  difficulty.  "  But 
why  has  he  returned  this,"  touching  the  yellow  envelope. 
"  It's  not  possible  he's  working  on  your  side ;  his  bread's  not 
buttered  that  way." 

"  I  give  it  up.  The  letter  was  not  even  left  directly 
at  the  hotel,  but  was  sent  through  the  mail  enclosed  in 
another  envelope,  the  direction  typewritten.  I  recognize 
his  hand  in  the  transaction,  but  not  in  the  typewriting,  so 
we  shall  never  be  able  to  prove  it.  Well,  I'll  rest  content 
with  the  recovery  of  this  piece  of  property,  and  the  knowl- 
edge that  we  have  got  to  watch  Randal  Whitelaw.  After 
all,  it  doesn't  make  much  difference.  As  I  said  before, 
my  case  is  by  no  means  complete." 

"  I  would  not  be  too  sure  of  that.  Let  us  at  least  go 
over  it  carefully.  Now  tell  me,  what  did  you  do  when  you 
heard  of  the  New  York  draft  .'* "  Doniphan's  eyes  snapped. 
His  enthusiasm  puzzled  the  younger  man,  for  he  failed  to 
penetrate  the  motive,  but  he  answered  readily  :  — 

"  There  was  a  delay  in  my  getting  Murray's  letter. 
When  I  got  to  the  hotel,  my  father  had  got  his  papers  and 
left.     They  did  not  speak  of  his  being  ill." 

"  And  the  hotel  register  .''  " 

"  Name  John  Thallon  as  from  Harrisburg,  date  about  a 
week  old.     I  made  a  tracing  of  it." 

"  And  the  bank  where  he  got  the  draft } " 

"  Couldn't  be  traced  through  that.  He  had  simply 
bought  the  thing,  paying  cash  for  it  over  the  counter." 

"  What  did  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  Came  on  to  Harrisburg  and  found  a  place  with  Hartley 


THE   BARRIERS  BREAK  DOWN  423 

&  Bald  through  a  letter  I  had  from  New  York.  I  con- 
nected them  with  the  affair  partly  through  the  old  enve- 
lopes of  1864,  partly  through  the  Harrisburg  address  on  the 
hotel  register.  I  made  no  progress  for  six  months,  when 
some  papers  came  into  the  office  in  connection  with  the 
formation  of  the  Leverson  Company.  Among  the  title 
deeds  was  an  old  mortgage  made  by  John  Leverson  to 
Tatnall  Doniphan,  to  secure  a  loan  of  twenty  thousand 
dollars." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  it  was  exchanged  for  stock." 

"  Well,  the  signature,  or  the  first  name  in  it,  corresponded 
with  the  signature  on  the  hotel  register,  on  the  letter  to 
Murray,  and  on  those  two  letters  written  to  my  mother 
from  camp  in  1864.  That  aroused  my  first  interest  in  the 
name  of  Leverson.     You  know  the  rest." 

The  man's  voice  softened  strangely  when  he  spoke  of 
his  mother.  That  side  of  him  was  uppermost  which  had 
first  appealed  to  Doniphan.  Until  now  the  dramatic  side 
of  this  curious  and  intricate  affair  had  held  Doniphan  in 
its  thraldom,  but  now  he  felt  himself  swept  off  his  feet  by 
that  little  touch  of  suffering  humanity.  He  leaned  across 
the  table  from  the  arm  of  a  great  easy-chair  where  he  had 
been  sitting  swinging  his  legs. 

"By  George!  but  it  has  been  tough  on  you,"  he  said ; 
"  but  keep  up  your  courage,  boy.  We  haven't  got  much 
fighting  evidence,  but  we'll  win  yet,  see  if  we  don't." 

"  You  seem  to  have  forgotten  what  we  were  talking 
about  a  little  time  ago.  There  was  to  be  a  hold  fastened 
on  Leverson.     Then  we  were  to  make  conditions." 

Doniphan's  jaw  dropped,  although  he  had  a  clear  eye 
on  the  other  man  to  detect  possible  trifling. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  demanded,  "  that  you  want 
to  put  this  little  affair  into  that  deal?" 

"  I've  thought  of  it." 

"  Well,  dismiss  the  thougtht.     It  can't  be  done." 


424  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Because  the  thing  isn't  salable.  If  it's  an  inheritance 
at  all,  it's  an  inheritance  that  can't  be  shirked.  There  are 
several  hundred  men  and  women  this  thing  might  mean 
life  and  death  to." 

"  And  there's  one  woman  to  whom  it  means  a  shabby 
third-story  back  room,"  the  younger  man  said,  without 
looking  up. 

A  great  wave  of  blood  surged  into  Doniphan's  face  as 
he  leaned  forward  across  the  table  and,  seizing  the  other's 
chin,  roughly  turned  his  face  toward  him. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you're  saying  }  "  he  demanded,  in  a 
voice  that  shook  a  little  in  spite  of  himself.  "  Men  can't 
do  those  things  for  women  like  Margaret  Leverson.  You 
may  love  her,  but  you  shan't  tell  her  so." 

But  Doniphan's  hand  dropped.  For  once  in  his  life  he 
had  met  his  match.  Thallon  had  risen  to  his  feet  and  stood 
regarding  him  with  cool  indifference. 

"  I  will  not  tell  her  until  she  frees  herself  from  him,"  he 
said  slowly.  "  I  will  do  nothing  to  part  them.  I  will  throw 
this  secret  into  the  scale  if  it  brings  her  one  moment's  res- 
pite —  dut  that  is  all.  Once  she  breaks  from  him  of  her 
own  free  will,  I  tell  you  no  power  in  heaven  or  hell  can 
keep  me  from  her." 

The  physical  power  in  the  man  had  come  to  the  surface. 
As  he  stood  there,  drawn  to  his  full  height,  Doniphan  noted 
for  the  first  time  the  likeness  to  Ashton  Leverson.  It  was 
the  same  Anglo-saxon  type,  —  the  superb  animal  that 
Cuthbert  Faucon  had  noted  as  standing  in  need  of  Chris- 
tianizing. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 


UNSPOKEN 


The  same  mail  which  brought  Doniphan  that  ungracious 
communication  from  the  Colonel  brought  Margaret  a  let- 
ter from  Leverson  even  less  characteristic  of  the  writer, 
inasmuch  as  it  was  written  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  was 
pervaded  by  a  tone  of  comradeship  with  which  her  hus- 
band had  not  favored  her  since  the  termination  of  their 
honeymoon.  Prosperity  was  certainly  having  a  benign 
influence  on  Leverson. 

"  I  don't  see  why  we  shouldn't  have  a  very  decent  New- 
port season  this  year,"  he  wrote.  "  For  once  I  shall  have 
more  money  than  I  know  what  to  do  with,  and  for  once 
your  everlasting  house  accounts  may  go  to  the  wall.  I 
have  just  engaged  a  cook  who  is  guaranteed  not  to  bring 
the  bkish  of  shame  to  the  cheek  of  the  most  sensitive  host, 
and  several  other  servants  whom  you  will  appreciate  as 
soon  as  you  realize  it  is  not  necessary  to  keep  track  of 
their  expenditures." 

The  "  we "  in  the  first  sentence  actually  touched  Mar- 
garet ;  the  whole  tone  of  what  followed  indicated  an  inter- 
est which,  if  she  chose,  might  be  ijiade  a  common  interest 
to  them  both. 

And  how  could  she  but  choose  it  ?  Her  days  of  romance 
were  long  since  over.  Leverson,  in  his  success,  was  offer- 
ing her  a  share  of  his  own  enjoyment  of  it,  the  only  kind 
of  enjoyment  he  was  capable  of.  Moreover,  it  was  per- 
fectly patent  to  her  that  she  was  being  offered  something 

425 


426  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

most  women  would  have  accepted  and  been  extremely 
grateful  for. 

She  had  been  quite  unreasonable  in  supposing  she  would 
be  offered  anything  more.  She  had  seen  clearly  enough 
for  some  time  now  that  those  idle  dreams  of  hers  had  been 
entirely  of  her  own  making.  It  had  not  seemed  possible 
to  her  before  that  she  had  been  raised  from  poverty  to 
wealth  merely  to  enjoy  it  in  this  way.  It  had  not  seemed 
possible  that  she  had  been  given  a  soul  sensitive  to  suffering 
in  others,  and  then  the  means  to  relieve  so  much  of  it, 
without  the  privilege  of  doing;  but  that  doubtless  was 
merely  another  of  the  mysteries.  Doniphan  had  told  her 
she  need  not  worry  about  her  usefulness.  Doniphan's 
scantiness  of  belief  was  a  source  of  worry  to  the  Rector, 
yet  the  man's  faith  at  least  included  that,  a  faith  that  the 
opportunity  would  come,  or,  as  Meyer  would  have  said, 
"  be  given,"  and  she,  who  pretended  to  believe  so  much 
more,  had  lacked  it ! 

After  all,  this  breaking  away  from  the  old  life  was  best ! 
In  this  moment  of  transition  from  a  restless  striving  after 
the  unattainable  to  an  acceptance  of  the  only  life  open  to 
her,  she  came  nearer  to  a  perfect  peace  than  she  had  known 
for  months. 

Away  from  Brockton,  it  must  be  comparatively  easy  to 
forget  that  haunting  scene  of  Meyer's  triumph,  the 
woman's  coarse  banter,  her  jeer  at  Leverson's  wife,  and 
the  newly  won  Leverson  money.  It  was  the  echo  of  tone 
and  gesture  rather  than  any  meaning  in  the  words,  the 
contempt  and  hatred  in  the  brutal  face,  which  clung  to  her 
in  spite  of  herself. 

The  amount  of  justice  in  the  taunt  she  had  no  means  of 
gauging.  The  intricate  transactions  connected  with  the 
sale  of  the  Leverson  Company  would  have  been  difficult 
for  her  to  comprehend  had  she  had  any  opportunity  of 
studying  them,  while  as  a  matter  of  fact  they  had  been 


UNSPOKEN  427 

hardly  mentioned  in  her  presence.  Doniphan,  their  only 
hostile  critic  in  the  world  she  lived  in,  had  been  careful  to 
keep  his  position  on  that  point  unknown  to  her.  The  girl, 
in  his  opinion,  had  enough  to  stagger  under  as  it  was. 

Therefore  it  was  easier  for  her  now  to  tell  herself  that 
her  dwelling  on  that  scene  of  the  other  afternoon  was  mor- 
bid. The  whole  tone  of  Leverson's  letter  was  one  of 
triumph  in  which  it  seemed  her  clear  duty  to  share.  His 
estimate  of  himself  as  a  shrewd  and  successful  financier 
was  much  easier  for  her  to  accept  than  most  of  his  esti- 
mates of  himself. 

He  had  certainly  made  a  great  deal  of  money ;  every  one 
was  speaking  of  it  with  unstinted  praise.  Surely  she,  his 
wife,  should  join  in  the  general  chorus.  The  envy,  hatred, 
and  malice  of  a  lower  class  was  probably  inevitable  under 
the  circumstances.  Even  a  man  like  Meyer  might  well  be 
stained  with  it.  That  was  a  thing  to  be  regretted,  but 
hardly  a  thing  to  bring  discontent  and  a  widening  breach 
between  herself  and  her  husband. 

She  was  folding  up  Leverson's  short  note,  her  eyes 
alight,  her  face  warm  with  deep  feeling,  when  she  got  sight 
of  a  postscript  on  the  back  of  the  last  page. 

Tlie  Colonel  tells  me  that  fellow  Thallon  is  going  to  get  well  after 
all.  If  it's  true,  I  wish  youM  see  him  and  tell  him  I  consider  his  engage- 
ment for  the  literary  work  holds  good  for  the  summer.  Of  course  I 
know  you  were  rather  down  on  my  going  on  with  it  at  one  time,  but 
I  believe  Aunt  Catherine  somewhat  misrepresented  your  motives,  and 
perhaps  I  was  rather  hasty  to  take  offence.  Anyway,  I  believe  you  will 
approve  when  I  tell  you  the  Ms.  has  been  read  by  a  literary  fellow  in 
New  York  who  says  it's  fine.  He  says  it  makes  him  think  of  Balsac 
That  the  detail's  "  marvellous."    I  quote  his  exact  words. 

Leverson  was  certainly  holding  out  the  olive  branch  with 
a  warmth  suggestive  of  coals  of  fire.  When  a  man  who 
habitually  disregards  other  people's  feelings  admits  gra- 
ciously that  he  may  have  been  "  rather  hasty,"  his  entire 


428  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

family,  certainly  all  the  female  part  of  it,  are  bound  to 
meet  him  nine-tenths  of  the  way,  and  if,  incidentally,  he 
reiterates  his  original  demand,  it  is  fairly  safe  to  surmise 
that  he  will  encounter  much  less  opposition  than  he  did  at 
first.  Leverson,  it  seemed,  in  the  matter  of  having  his 
own  way  with  other  people,  could  be  persistent.  Though 
himself  bereft  of  any  means  of  moral  locomotion  beyond 
that  of  drifting  with  the  current,  he  could,  when  the  occa- 
sion served,  impart  a  moving  force  to  others  who  might 
otherwise  have  been  backward  in  comprehending  the  im- 
portance of  his  smaller  wishes. 

Yet,  though  she  knew  she  would  literally  comply  with 
the  request,  there  was  something  behind  the  request  which 
she  rejected  instinctively  as  soon  as  she  recognized  it. 

Leverson's  mention  of  "  that  fellow's  "  name  had  brought 
back  the  old  problem  again  in  full  vigor.  The  warm  glow 
which  the  reading  of  the  letter  had  brought  to  the  girl's 
heart  died  out  as  she  finished  the  second  and  more  impor- 
tant part  of  it.  Why  had  he  asked  her  to  do  this  thing .-' 
On  its  face  it  was  a  mere  matter  of  convenience  to  him. 
He  would  be  in  Brockton  himself  within  twenty-four  hours. 
He  would  see  Thallon  himself  in  any  case. 

The  answer  was  simple  enough.  She  could  not  disguise 
from  herself  that  she  was  expected  to  do  something  more 
than  simply  deliver  a  message.  Leverson  still  believed  that 
it  was  through  her  influence  that  Thallon  had  chosen  other 
employment.  Now,  under  the  encouragement  of  the  New 
Yorker's  favorable  comment,  Leverson,  doubly  anxious  to 
reenlist  Thallon's  services,  desired  that  influence  used  in 
an  opposite  direction. 

That  she  would  not,  she  could  not  do  !  She  tore  aside 
the  veil  ruthlessly  to  ask  herself  why.  It  would  have  been 
easy  to  convince  herself  that  what  she  dreaded  was  the 
loss  of  her  own  respect,  for  she  did  dread  it ;  but  she  knew 
it  was  something  beyond  that  which  she  clung  to  with  such 


UNSPOKEN  429 

a  curious  tenacity.  Ever  since  that  day  at  the  Lindleys' 
she  had  known  with  a  woman's  quick  instinct  the  high 
place  this  man  had  given  her  in  his  regard.  In  those  mo- 
ments of  self-condemnation  that  were  frequent  with  her,  she 
had  told  herself  that  she  had  not  deserved  it,  but  it  was 
none  the  less  sweet  to  her  on  that  account,  for  she  was 
very  human. 

Her  relationship  with  Thallon  was  peculiarly  sacred  to 
her,  largely  because  it  had  stood  for  that  longing  within 
herself  for  something  larger,  still  more  because  it  was  the 
only  part  of  it  to  which  she  had  been  able  to  give  definite 
shape,  from  which  she  had  been  able  to  derive  some  defi- 
nite satisfaction.  She  must,  of  course,  give  this  up  with 
the  rest,  but  she  must  give  it  up  unsmeared  by  any  touch 
of  inconsistency.  To  part  from  him  with  the  conscious- 
ness that  he  would  always  look  back  upon  her  influence  as 
a  stimulant  toward  something  better  than  he  had  known 
before  was  not  easy  for  her ;  but  it  was  far  easier  than  such 
a  parting  as  that,  —  a  self-abasement,  an  acknowledgment 
that  her  lofty  counsels  had  been  aimed  too  high  and  failed, 
nay,  worse  than  that,  had  failed  in  the  first  moment  of  their 
interference  with  her  own  peace. 

She  could  no  more  have  done  it  than  she  could  have 
urged  Thallon  to  lie  or  steal  for  the  sake  of  making  Lever- 
son  happy,  thereby  keeping  him  sufficiently  good-natured 
to  make  life  with  him  bearable  for  her.  Now,  as  always, 
Leverson's  conditions  for  a  better  understanding  between 
them  seemed  fated  to  contain  some  clause  she  could  not 
accept. 

She  gave  up  the  argument  with  a  sigh,  but  the  sigh  was 
no  sign  of  compromise.  A  feeling  that  Leverson  was 
present,  and  that  she  was  reiterating  her  denial,  was  very 
strong  upon  her,  perhaps  because  she  had  read  his  letter 
in  his  study,  a  room  more  suggestive  of  him  than  any  other 
in  the  house.     She   had  been  reading  his  written  words 


430  THE   BEATEN  PATH 

seated  before  the  study  fireplace  with  its  low  basket  grate 
half  filled  with  a  few  large  lumps  of  soft  coal.  It  was  not, 
of  course,  used  at  this  season  save  as  a  convenient  place 
for  burning  waste  paper. 

She  noticed  now,  with  some  surprise,  that  it  must  have 
been  very  recently  used  for  that  purpose,  for  the  charred 
remains  of  burnt  paper  lay  in  a  compact  mass  underneath 
the  iron  bars.  It  was  hardly  possible  the  servants  could 
have  left  it  so  any  length  of  time,  yet  Leverson  had  been 
absent  several  days,  and  no  one  else  was  supposed  to  use 
the  room.  Her  mind,  however,  was  too  much  on  its  own 
train  of  thought  to  carry  her  far  in  any  other  direction. 
She  had  risen,  and,  striking  a  light,  held  it  an  instant 
against  the  edge  of  Leverson's  letter. 

As  she  watched  it  burn  slowly  in  her  hand,  that  curious 
sense  that  the  man  himself  was  in  the  room  watching  her 
grew  even  stronger,  but  it  brought  with  it  no  disquieting 
sense  of  doubt,  no  change  in  the  answer  she  had  made  up 
her  mind  to  give  him. 

As  the  loose  sheet  of  note-paper  burst  suddenly  into 
flame  she  stooped  down  and  thrust  it  under  the  bars.  In 
doing  so  she  displaced  the  compact  mass  of  burned  paper 
which  already  lay  there.  At  her  touch  it  fell  to  pieces 
with  a  crackling  sound,  disclosing  below  it  a  packet  of 
closely  tied  papers  which,  though  charred  at  one  end,  were 
for  the  rest  still  untouched  by  fire.  It  looked  more  like  a 
packet  of  old  letters  in  long  envelopes  than  anything  else, 
for  by  the  light  of  the  burning  paper  she  had  thrown  be- 
side it  she  could  distinctly  read  a  name  —  Leverson's  own 
name,  written  in  a  large  scrawling,  but  not  illiterate  hand. 

By  a  quick,  instinctive  movement,  she  snatched  the  packet 
out  of  harm's  way,  though  a  moment  later  she  could 
hardly  have  told  why.  If,  as  was  evident,  the  papers 
belonged  to  her  husband,  he  had  supposedly  intended  to 
burn  them  ;  and  yet,  on  closer  inspection,  that  simple  expla- 


UNSPOKEN  431 

nation  was  not  quite  so  tenable.  The  papers  were  tied 
together  in  the  middle  by  a  band  of  tape  quite  untouched 
by  fire,  so  that,  turning  them  back  one  by  one,  Margaret 
could  see  the  other  side.  The  curious  fact  which  arrested 
her  attention  as  she  did  so  was  that  the  envelopes  were 
securely  sealed ;  not  one  of  them  bore  any  sign  of  having 
ever  been  opened. 

She  stood  there  regarding  them  curiously,  her  interest 
in  them  at  last  thoroughly  aroused.  Ashton  Leverson 
was  a  very  careless  man  ;  but  he  was  not,  as  far  as  she 
knew,  in  the  habit  of  burning  letters  not  only  unread,  but 
even  unopened.  Then,  too,  they  were  not  letters  received 
by  post,  for  they  had  neither  stamps  nor  postmark  ;  and  the 
yellow  tone  of  the  unburned  papers  gave  the  impression 
that  they  had  been  carefully  kept  for  years.  She  could  make 
no  further  investigation  now,  but  it  was  her  clear  duty  to 
set  the  papers  aside  and  call  the  matter  to  her  husband's 
attention  on  his  return.  If  her  doing  so  should  prove  of 
any  use  to  him,  she  would  be  well  repaid.  There  were  so 
few  things  in  which  she  seemed  able  to  please  him  nowa- 
days. 

By  the  time  she  had  put  the  papers  into  an  unused 
drawer  of  her  own  desk  upstairs,  her  mind  was  back 
again  in  its  former  channel.  She  had  not  intended  to 
see  Thallon  again,  her  promise  to  Doniphan  debarred  her 
from  that;  though  had  she  met  him  through  his  own 
choice,  or  by  accident,  she  would  have  held  firmly  to  the 
place  she  had  always  held  with  him.  To  have  been  any- 
thing else  would  have  wronged  him,  and  where  the  wrong 
touched  others  she  had  a  right  to  resist.  She  would,  how- 
ever, go  to  him  to-day  and  deliver  Leverson's  message,  but 
in  doing  so  she  would  make  it  perfectly  clear  to  him  that 
she  held  the  ground  she  had  always  held. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  for  her  to  arrange  this  in  addition 
to  the  many  other  things  she  had  to  do.     She  had  only  an 


432  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

hour  or  two  each  day  now  for  her  own  use.  To-morrow,  the 
last  day  of  all,  she  had  planned  visits  to  the  Lindleys'  and 
the  Rectory,  followed  by  a  short  half-hour  at  her  mother's 
grave,  the  only  bit  of  sentiment  she  had  allowed  herself. 

To-day  she  had  planned  to  go  out  to  the  Hill  Farm  and 
say  good-by  to  Mobray  Doniphan.  She  could  stop  at  the 
hospital  and  see  Thailon  on  her  way  back :  Mobray,  she 
knew,  since  his  retirement  from  the  Company,  was  not  on 
the  best  of  terms  with  Leverson.  It  was  possible  she  might 
not  see  him  again. 

She  worked  faithfully  until  lunch  time,  superintending  a 
staff  of  servants  who  worked  well  under  her  because  they 
were  not  afraid  of  her.  Leverson's  four  days'  absence  had 
calmed  the  household.  Had  they  known  of  the  impressive 
domestic  phalanx  awaiting  the  family  at  Newport,  they 
might  have  been  less  cheerful. 

The  drive  to  the  Hill  Farm  did  her  good.  Though  dusty 
Brockton  lay  bathed  in  the  heat  of  late  July,  the  breeze  on 
the  higher  lands  away  from  the  river  was  cool,  almost  brac- 
ing. She  looked  back  on  the  wide  stretch  of  valley  below 
as  she  turned  into  the  long  avenue  which  marked  the  begin- 
ning of  Doniphan's  possessions. 

It  was,  perhaps,  her  last  sight  of  it  from  this  unique 
point  of  view.  Everything  she  did  now  seemed  to  have 
that  stamp  upon  it.  She  pulled  herself  together  with  an 
effort.  She  was  fighting  vigorously  against  what  she  knew 
to  be  good,  but  not  the  best  in  herself.  The  same  thing 
which  would  have  lifted  another  nature  dragged  hers 
down.  Her  part  in  life  was  to  be  severely  practical,  its 
poetry,  its  tenderness,  had  been  given  to  others,  doubtless 
because  they  could  make  a  better  use  of  it.' 

The  sound  of  the  phaeton  wheels  upon  the  drive  was 
drowned  by  the  furious  barking  of  Twist,  who  came  bound- 
ing out  of  the  wide-open  front  door  as  Margaret  drove  up 
to  the  house.     The  dog's  noisy  welcome  seemed  fated  to  be 


UNSPOKEN  433 

her  only  one,  for,  having  pacified  him  with  a  caress,  the 
place  seemed  to  relapse  again  into  dead  stillness,  its  un- 
guarded openness  making  more  marked  the  sense  of  deser- 
tion which  brooded  over  it. 

Even  before  she  passed  through  the  wide-open  door  she 
knew  Doniphan  was  not  there,  for  he  always  kept  an  eye 
on  the  long  avenue,  and  invariably  greeted  her  from  the 
steps  of  the  broad  veranda.  Nevertheless,  she  continued 
on  through  the  wide,  cool  hall  toward  the  Hbrary,  partly 
through  force  of  old  habit,  partly  through  a  more  definite 
desire  to  see  once  more  the  familiar  room  as  she  had  seen 
it  scores  of  times  before.  ' 

Coming  from  the  glare  of  sunlight  outside,  the  subdued 
light  within  seemed  dusky  by  comparison.  The  curtains 
which,  in  Doniphan's  presence,  were  always  thrust  aside 
out  of  the  way,  were  drawn  closely.  As  she  pushed  open 
the  door  and  stood  there  on  the  threshold,  looking  in,  a 
chilly  dampness  seemed  to  fall  on  her,  and  she  shivered 
slightly. 

Small  wonder  then  that  she  started  perceptibly  as  a  tall 
figure  rose  from  a  long  steamer  chair  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  table,  and  stood  there  for  an  instant  without  speak- 
ing. .  The  dog  was  standing  mute,  but  restless,  between 
the  two,  as  if  uncertain  of  the  outcome  of  this  unexpected 
meeting. 

She  recovered  all  her  serenity  at  the  instant  of  that  rec-  ' 
ognition  ;  he,  on  the  contrary,  retained  a  certain  embar- 
rassment of  manner  as  he  advanced  toward  her.  No  man 
living  could  have  guessed  that  this  encounter  was  fraught 
with  any  difficulty  for  the  girl,  as  she  held  out  her  hand  in 
her  old  frank  way.  For  the  moment  she  had  forgotten 
all  about  Doniphan  and  the  room,  both  so  predominant  a 
moment  before. 

"You  here  !  "  she  cried,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  had  not  be- 
lieved it  possible !     They  said  you  were  so  much  better, 


434  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

but  I  would  not  quite  believe  it.  It  was  so  like  Mr.  Doni- 
phan to  bring  you  here,  —  and  yet  I  never  dreamed — •" 

"  That  I  had  been  so  busy  getting  back  to  life  while  you 
have  been  so  busy  getting  away  from  Brockton,"  he  said, 
with  some  suggestion  of  his  old  manner  about  him,  "  I'm 
sorry  Mr.  Doniphan's  out.  He  went  down  to  one  of  the 
labor  meetings,  —  he  may  be  back  at  any  moment.  Can't 
you  wait.""" 

If  his  tone  hurt  her,  she  did  not  show  it.  After  all,  did  she 
not  owe  him  some  explanation  for  those  weeks  of  silence } 
Her  next  words  showed  that  she  felt  this. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  this  chance  of  speaking  to  you. 
I  have  sent  to  inquire  often,  but  until  to-day  I  hardly 
hoped  to  see  you  again  before  I  left  Brockton." 

There  was  something  in  her  voice  which  moved  him,  in 
spite  of  the  close  watch  he  still  kept  upon  himself  against 
assuming  anything  she  had  not  meant  he  should.  Ever 
since  the  day  when  he  had  first  felt  the  force  of  this 
woman's  personality  upon  his  own,  he  had  held  that  rein 
between  fingers  of  wrought  steel.  His  tenure  of  her  friend- 
ship, if  he  could  call  it  such,  was  short  at  best ;  he  must 
do  nothing  which  could  mar  it  in  her  eyes  while  it  lasted, 

—  so  he  had  told  himself,  at  first.  Then  had  come  a  revul- 
sion from  deep  depression  to  high  elation,  a  defiant  inward 
assertion  that  do  what  they  would  they  could  not  take  t/tat 
friendship  from  him.  Doniphan's  confidence  in  the  out- 
come of  the  coming  struggle  with  Leverson  had  (quite 
against  the  little  man's  intentions)  fanned  this  smouldering 
sensation  of  ownership  into  flame. 

"  Nor  I,"  he  said  slowly,  as  he  took  a  seat  facing  her. 
"  Strange  that  it  should  have  come  at  the  very  moment 
when  I  was  denying  myself  even  the  privilege  of  gratitude 

—  even  the  commonplace  right  to  thank  you  and  say 
good-by." 

"You  certainly  have  that,"  she  returned,  still  smiUng, 


UNSPOKEN  435 

those  wide,  comprehending  eyes  of  hers  fixed  on  his  face 
with  that  perfect  candor  which  marked  the  child  in  her. 
"  I  had  not  thought  of  your  being  able  to  come  to  me.  If 
you  were,  why  did  you  not  come  ?  " 

"  Then  you  did  wish  it  ? "  he  demanded,  with  a  sudden 
eagerness  vibrating  beneath  the  words,  despite  himself, 

"  Wish  to  be  thanked  ?  Well,  perhaps  I  did,"  she  re- 
turned, with  a  suggestion  of  laughter  in  her  voice.  "  And 
yet  that  hardly  does  me  justice  either,"  she  went  on  seri- 
ously. "  If  I  had  helped  you  in  any  way  (and  I  believed 
I  had)  I  wanted  to  thank  you  for  letting  me  do  it.  It  may 
be  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,  but  sometimes  I 
think  the  accepting  shows  the  greater  generosity,  cer- 
tainly when  the  gift  bestowed  consists  mostly  of  good 
advice.  After  all,  it  comes  down  to  that.  You  have  let 
me  lecture  you,  and  I  have  enjoyed  it  immensely.  That, 
after  all,  is  what  I  wanted  to  thank  you  for." 

"You  have  asked  nothing  of  me  you  would  not  have 
done  yourself  ten  times  over,"  he  returned,  with  an  earnest- 
ness which  ignored  her  lighter  tone.  "  I  do  not  mean 
to  imply  that  the  plane  on  which  I  stood  could  have  held 
any  temptation  for  you,  but  you  must  have  had  your  own 
temptations  and  held  them  down,  or  you  could  not  have 
understood.  Until  I  met  you  and  Dr.  Lindley  and  Mr. 
Doniphan,  life  seemed  to  me  merely  a  great  game  to  be 
played  out  with  the  cards  dealt  one  rather  ruthlessly  and 
brutally.  My  hand,  Uke  the  great  majority,  was  weak 
enough,  —  I  could  not  afford  to  be  fastidious.  You  know 
how  it  was." 

She  was  serious  enough  now. 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  know,"  she  repeated  thoughtfully.  "  Yet 
it  was  a  temptation  you  must  not  blame  others  for  not  see- 
ing as  I  saw  it.  It  has  troubled  me  since  that  you  may 
have  construed  what  I  said  at  the  time  as  some  reflection  on 
Mr.  Leverson's  —  judgment "  (she  paused  as  if  she  selected 


436  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

the  word  carefully).  "  You  must  see  now  that  he  could 
not  possibly  judge  you  as  I  did.  He  was  possessed  then, 
and  is  still  possessed,  with  the  idea  that  he  was  offering 
you  a  fair  chance  of  honorable  achievement.  To  him  his 
own  suggestion  of  the  work  was  the  all-important  thing. 
He  believes  implicitly  that  the  work  is  really  his,  —  that  it 
will  do  him  great  credit,  and  that  incidentally  it  will  be  a 
benefit  to  you  to  be  employed  on  it.  I  had  a  perfectly 
frank  letter  from  him  this  morning,  in  which  he  desires 
me  to  see  you  and  ask  you  to  renew  your  engagement  with 
him  for  the  summer.  I  give  you  his  message  just  as  he 
sent  it.  I  think  you  should,  if  possible,  see  him  yourself 
in  answer  to  it.     He  will  be  at  Elmhurst  to-night." 

She  was  driving  herself  through  her  task  with  pitiless 
determination,  but  she  could  not,  struggle  as  she  would, 
entirely  conceal  what  it  cost  her.  A  warmer  color  stirred 
underneath  the  usually  cool,  pale  face  of  the  girl,  her  fin- 
gers were  playing  a  little  nervously  with  a  small  bronze 
paper-weight  on  the  corner  of  the  table  beside  her.  She  was 
not  looking  at  Thallon,  as  was  her  way  with  any  one  to 
whom  she  happened  to  be  speaking.  Her  eyes  were  mov- 
ing restlessly  among  the  familiar  objects  in  the  room,  but 
they  avoided  the  chair  opposite,  where  he  sat  regarding 
her  curiously. 

"  And  you,  after  all,  wish  me  to  do  this  } " 

The  question  had  hardly  left  his  lips  before  he  saw  how 
cruel  it  was,  —  all  the  more  cruel  because  it  was  quite 
unnecessary.  But  the  mischief  was  done.  Stupid  apol- 
ogies would  not  mend  matters  now.  He  was  punished 
enough,  perhaps,  in  seeing  the  reproach  in  her  eyes  as  she 
turned  them  on  him,  to  say  what  he  had  forced  her  to  say. 

"  No,"  she  answered  slowly.  "  Seeing  this  as  I  have 
from  the  first,  from  my  own  point  of  view,  I  can't  change. 
Not  only  that,  but  I  have  more  reason  now  than  before  to 
believe  you  can  do  something  better  than  work  for  any  one 


UNSPOKEN  437 

man's  amusement,  —  for  to  Mr.  Leverson  all  this  is  merely 
an  amusement,  and  not  even  one  that  is  likely  to  last.  Mr. 
Doniphan  has  told  me  of  his  scheme  of  buying  out  the 
Transcript,  and  that  he  intended  to  persuade  you  to  take  a 
place  on  it  before  you  were  hurt.  If  your  engagement  with 
Mr.  Leverson  was  not  binding  for  any  definite  time,  you 
are,  of  course,  free  to  accept  this." 

"  I  doubt  if  Mr.  Leverson  will  see  it  in  quite  that  light. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  engaged  me  for  a  week  at  our  first 
interview,  and  has  never  mentioned  the  matter  since.  But 
that  will  not  prevent  his  considering  I  am  bound  to  him. 
However,  let  that  pass.  As  you  say,  I  had  better  see  him, 
and  make  my  position  clear.  I  owe  him  that  even  if  he 
had  not  asked  it,  —  I  am  still  nominally  in  his  employ 
though  M'sieu  Dupre  has  interfered  with  my  going  on 
with  the  work,"  Thallon  ended,  smiling. 

"You  will  find  Mr.  Leverson  is  anxious  to  have  you," 
she  admitted  honestly.  "  He  told  Mr.  Doniphan  he  wanted 
your  help  even  more  now  than  before  the  sale  of  the  Works. 
This  message  to-day  is  another  proof  that  he  really  values 
you." 

"  Only  another  temptation  to  take  the  easier  path,"  he 
said  a  little  grimly,  "  but,  after  all,  it  is  not  so  much  of 
a  temptation  now.  You  helped  me  to  put  that  back  of  me 
some  time  since.  I  told  you  so  that  day  at  the  Doctor's, 
and  I  was  quite  sincere.  Nevertheless,  I  think  then  the 
motive  of  it  all  was  largely  to  please  you.  Now  I  want  to 
tell  you  I  see  the  reason  for  it.  I  can't  be  worthy  of  your 
faith  in  me  in  any  other  way,  and  I  want  to  be  worthy  of 
it  for  my  own  sake  as  well  as  yours." 

"  Was  that  what  you  wanted  to  say  to  me  that  night  at 
the  hospital } "  she  asked  in  a  low  voice. 

Curiously  enough,  considering  the  disparity  between 
them,  this  man  seemed  to  have  the  power  of  wrapping  her 
completely  in  himself,  even  without  any   set   purpose   of 


438  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

doing  so.  Besides  his  natural  self-assertion,  there  was  an 
appeal  in  him  she  had  been  quick  to  see  and  respond  to. 

He  paused  a  moment,  as  if  debating  something  with 
himself  before  he  answered. 

"  Yes  and  no.  That  is,  it  was  not  all  I  wished  to  say 
then,  yet  it  is  all  I  can  say  now.  Of  course  you  can 
understand  why.     The  changed  conditions  —  " 

"  Changed  !  How  changed  .-'  "  she  asked,  a  puzzled  look 
in  her  eyes. 

There  were  moments  when  her  innocence  of  life  was  as 
wonderful  to  him  as  her  inherent  cleverness  —  times  when 
the  man  in  him  usually  took  the  lead.  It  must  have  been 
that  quality  in  her  which  had  enabled  her  to  live  with 
a  man  like  Leverson  two  years  and  not  be  belittled 
by  it. 

"  I  don't  think  I  exaggerate  it,"  he  returned  thoughtfully. 
"  In  one  sense  there  is  perhaps  very  little  difference  between 
our  parting  now  and  what  our  parting  would  have  been 
then,  that  is  to  say,  I  have  no  belief,  no  hope,  that  I  shall 
see  you  again  after  you  leave  Brockton.  Yet  there  is 
a  difference  between  the  two,  —  the  enormous  difference 
between  Hfe  and  death.  A  man  can  say  much  with  the 
dignity  of  death  behind  him  which  can't  be  said  without 
bathos  in  the  face  of  returning  strength.  At  that  time, 
when  I  believed  I  was  dying,  I  wanted  to  tell  you  some- 
thing about  my  past.  My  hold  on  it  seemed  loosening,  it 
was  the  only  thing  I  had  to  leave,  and  I  wanted  to  leave  it 
to  you,  because,  I  say  it  without  shame,  I  thought  it  would 
make  you  think  more  kindly  of  me.  Now  my  past  has 
come  back  to  me  I  cannot  give  it  to  you.  It  becomes  at 
once  a  part  of  the  present  and  the  future  which  I  have  got 
to  live  out  in  my  own  way.  I  cannot  ask  you  to  read  an 
unfinished  story,  and  that  it  is  unfinished  is,  after  all,  your 
doing,  not  mine.     You  told  me  to  live,  you  know." 

She   had   been    leaning    toward   him   with   an   intense 


UNSPOKEN  439 

absorption  in  his  words  which  she  had  made  no  attempt  to 
conceal,  but  she  colored  shghtly  at  his  last  words. 

*'  Ah  !  then  you  did  understand  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Surely  of  all  things  that !  You  thought  I  was  worth  it. 
That  was  enough  for  me.  It  was  the  key-note  of  what 
you  had  been  to  me  from  the  first.  I  asked  for  you  that  I 
might  give  you  something  and  you  came ;  and  the  giving 
was  all  on  your  side,  as  usual.  I  don't  mean  I  was  not 
loyal  in  return ;  every  particle  of  strength  in  me  went  out 
to  do  your  bidding,  to  please  you  in  that  one  thing. 
There  was  no  conscious  thought  in  it,  it  was  merely  a 
sensation,  an  intense  desire,  nothing  more,  and  yet  it  served 
its  purpose." 

"But  before  that  —  you  had  not  wished  to  die.?"  she 
asked  anxiously. 

"  No  !  Very  far  from  it.  The  physical  part  of  me  had 
been  fighting  desperately  for  every  shred  of  life,  but  in 
that  lucid  moment  when  I  asked  for  you,  the  physical  part 
of  me  had  gone  under,  —  I  gave  it  up  then,  just  as  I  give 
you  up  now,  without  any  hope." 

The  words  had  left  his  mouth  before  he  perceived  their 
import.  It  was  an  assertion  of  possession,  a  cry  of  de- 
spair, of  protest  against  renunciation  of  an  inherent  right. 
For  a  moment  his  hold  over  himself  had  slipped.  He 
had  risen  and  walked  restlessly  across  to  the  great  window, 
with  its  view  of  the  valley.  The  curtains  had  been  drawn 
to  keep  out  the  brilliant  sunlight.  He  threw  them  aside 
impatiently. 

Why  should  not  everything  be  made  clear  ?  The  parting 
had  got  to  come  in  any  case ;  why  should  he  part  from 
her  in  silence  ?  The  young  blood  in  his  veins  called  out 
imperiously  to  have  its  way.  Being  a  man,  he  wanted 
her  to  know  he  suffered,  —  wanted  her  to  suflFer  with  him 
because  it  would  make  it  so  much  easier  for  him. 

The  miserable  selfishness  of  it  came  to  him  as  he  turned 


440  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

and  looked  at  her.  She,  too,  had  risen  as  if  to  go.  Her 
eyes  rested  on  him  with  more  feeling  than  he  had  ever 
seen  in  them  before,  and  yet  there  was  reproach  in  them 
too. 

"  You  exaggerate  the  value  of  my  friendship,"  she  was 
saying  in  that  low  voice  of  hers,  —  low,  yet  so  marvellously 
clear  and  penetrating,  like  the  voices  of  the  great  singers. 
"  As  such  things  are  given  to  us  to  guide,  your  future  cer- 
tainly rests  in  your  own  hands,  and  I  believe,  firmly  be- 
lieve, you  have  found  your  true  work.  I  put  that  first 
because  it  seems  to  me  such  an  inestimable  blessing. 
Just  think !  To  have  your  duty  clearly  marked  out  before 
you.  To  know  that  in  working  out  a  career  you  are  not 
merely  working  for  yourself,  but  for  the  whole  world,  — 
for  God."  She  paused  a  moment,  not  in  embarrassment, 
but  as  if  debating  with  herself  how  much  right  she  had 
to  speak  of  what  was  in  her  mind.  "  Some  words  of 
yours  once  caught  in  my  memory,"  she  went  on  gravely. 
"  Perhaps  it  is  wrong  for  me  even  to  mention  it,  for  you 
have  just  told  me  you  cannot  show  me  your  life  as  once 
you  wished  to  do.  I  am  far,  very  far,  from  wishing  to 
pry  into  your  past,  but  if  by  a  mere  chance  word  I  may 
have  guessed  it,  —  guessed  the  cause  of  your  bitterness, 
your  lack  of  faith  in  yourself, — then  surely  I  may  speak. 
I  should  like  so  much  to  make  my  last  words  to  you  words 
of  real  hope." 

He  was  looking  at  her  now  in  utter  bewilderment.  The 
voice  was  more  than  kind,  yet  it  was  perfectly  passionless. 
It  was  impossible  for  him  to  listen  to  it  and  not  feel  that 
she  was  deeply  moved,  and  moved  by  him.  It  was  equally 
impossible  to  question  for  a  moment  the  reason  of  it.  It 
was  as  transparent  as  the  clear  depths  of  her  pure  eyes. 

"  You  have  guessed .''  You  know  ?  "  he  could  only  repeat. 
A  flicker  of  amusement  crossed  her  face  like  a  sunbeam. 

"  Ah !  that  is  for  you  to  say,"  she  returned  demurely. 


UNSPOKEN  441 

"  You  remember  that  day  when  they  had  all  gone  yacht- 
ing, and  I  met  you  on  my  way  back  from  the  landing 
with  my  volume  of  Longfellow  in  your  hand.  You  had 
found  it  on  one  of  the  garden  seats  and  were  returning 
with  it  to  the  house." 

"  And  I  began  reading  '  Evangeline  *  without  being 
asked,"  he  said,  smiling  back  at  her. 

"  No,  I  think  I  asked  you  ;  but  that  does  not  really 
matter.  In  a  sense  you  read  it  very  well,  but  only  at  the 
last  did  it  take  possession  of  you ;  when  you  got  to  that 
line  :  — 

"  Might  took  the  place  of  right,  and  the  weak  were  oppressed,  and  the 
mighty 
.  Ruled  with  an  iron  rod  — 

Ah  !  then  you  read  indeed.  Why  were  you  so  moved  by 
that  ? " 

"  The  old  Notary's  story  is  sad,"  he  said  evasively, 
"  and  true." 

Why  was  she,  of  all  women,  reminding  him  of  the 
world's  injustice  and  his  own  loss  by  it  ?  Could  she  sus- 
pect .<*  The  absurdity  of  the  idea  came  to  him  almost 
with  fts  conception.  At  the  moment  he  would  gladly  have 
taken  back  his  old  irony,  his  jibes  at  human  honesty. 
What  did  he  care,  in  this  hour  of  parting  from  her,  for  the 
brazen  statue  levelled  by  a  bolt  from  heaven.  Heaven's 
interference  had  come  too  late  to  rectify  the  wrong  in  that 
case,  and  in  his.  What  was  the  recovery  of  a  name  worth 
to  him,  who  would  have  bartered  his  own  soul  for  the 
right  to  touch  her  hair  with  his  hand. 

"  Yes,  very  sad,"  she  was  saying,  "  and  how  true  I 
never  knew  until  I  heard  the  words  from  your  own 
lips." 

She  was  looking  at  him  now  a  little  shyly,  the  faint 
color  sweeping  back  into  her  face,  for  she  was  treading  on 


442  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

dangerous  ground;  but  she  had  something  to  say,  and  she 
pushed  on. 

"  They  were  the  words  of  a  man  who  had  suffered  — 
grave  injustice,  so  I  read  them.  Tell  me,  if  you  may, 
this  one  thing,  — was  I  right  ? " 

"  You  were  quite  right," 

He  did  not  recognize  his  own  voice. 

"  And  had  risen  above  it,"  she  put  in  with  a  little  note 
of  triumph  she  could  not  repress. 

"  If  you  mean  above  revenge,  yes." 

"  I  knew  it !  I  knew  it !  "  she  broke  in  vehemently. 
"  That  is  where  you  are  stronger  than  I.  I  am  so  full 
of  blind  resentment,  of  purposeless  reproach.  We  women 
are  so  hemmed  in,  so  helpless.  We  can  only  suffer,  never 
rise  above  suffering  into  action.  So  even  in  my  envy 
of  you,  you  have  helped  me.  The  debt  is  not  all  on  your 
side." 

A  light  was  breaking  in  upon  poor  Thallon.  She  had 
seen  the  misery  in  his  eyes,  and  had  misread  it  because 
she  had  never  learned  the  language  which  spoke  in  them. 
It  was  a  language  eloquent  of  the  guilt  which  had  burnt 
itself  deep  into  his  soul,  smouldering  there  always,  never 
more  than  half  stifled,  ever  ready  to  burst  into  flame,  as 
it  had  a  moment  since.  And  she  —  this  woman  whom  he 
miserably,  hopelessly  loved  — ■  had  believed  this  other  thing 
of  him  and  had  cherished  it  as  something  noble  in  him. 

Nothing  else  could  have  made  the  position  Margaret 
Leverson  held  toward  him  so  clear.  She  cared  for  him 
just  because  he  was  true  to  the  note  she  herself  had  struck. 
For  her  sake  he  had  built  himself  into  a  new  man,  and 
upon  her  recognition  of  that  new  manhood  she  had  founded 
her  implicit  faith  in  him.  She  not  only  had  the  faith ;  in 
this  hour  of  parting  she  believed  she  had  transmitted  it  to 
him,  as  if  it  were  some  precious  amulet. 

And  he  was  bound  to  let  her  believe  it.     It  was  by  far 


UNSPOKEN  443 

the  simpler  way,  by  far  the  surest  road  to  her  peace  of 
mind,  for  she  would  sorrow  keenly  for  him  if  she  knew 
the  truth. 

After  all,  was  it  not  true  ?  true  that  he  had  tossed  every- 
thing else  aside,  even  her  friendship,  for  the  sake  of  being 
the  kind  of  man  she  wanted  him  to  be  ?  His  failure  or 
success  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.     The  story  ended  there, 

—  ended  so  completely  that  what  he  had  termed  his  hope- 
lessness a  few  moments  since  seemed  wild  elation  by  com- 
parison. 

With  those  earnest  words  of  womanly  sympathy  she  had 
severed  herself  from  him  beyond  recall.  Until  now  his 
thoughts,  at  least,  had  been  his  own.  To  think  of  her 
now  in  any  other  than  the  place  she  had  given  herself 
struck  him  all  at  once  as  a  sacrilege.  Margaret  Leverson 
had  not  merely  failed  to  see  his  weakness,  —  she  was  in- 
capable of  even  conceiving  it. 

So  thought  Thallon  at  the  very  moment  when  the  woman 
beside  him  was  crushing  the  life  out  of  a  new-born  joy  in 
her  heart.  How  could  she  help  him  in  any  way  other 
than  she  had,  with  her  "  fight  on  bravely,"  and  then  —  her 

—  silence.  How  much  harder  would  it  have  been  for  him 
had  be  guessed  the  words  of  parting  which  burned  those 
brave  young  lips  for  utterance,  words  infinitely  touching 
even  as  she  had  read  them  months  before,  had  sprung 
suddenly  into  new  meaning,  had  clothed  themselves  with 
the  palpitating  life  of  love  incarnate. 

Teach  me,  only  teach,  Love! 

As  I  ought 
I  will  speak  thy  speech,  Love! 

Think  thy  thought  — 

That  shall  be  to-morrow, 

Not  to-night : 
I  must  bury  sorrow 

Out  of  sight : 


444  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

How  could  he  guess,  as  he  looked  across  at  her,  the  battle 
that  raged  behind  the  quiet  face.  He  only  knew  she  was 
being  taken  from  him,  and  that  she  made  no  outcry. 

"  Please  don't  think  ill  of  me  if  I  have  lacked  your  cour- 
age," he  said  slowly.  "  I've  no  doubt  things  will  come 
out  right  —  as  they  do  in  novels  —  in  the  end.  I  shall  reap 
a  harvest  scribbling  for  the  papers,  and  then  —  " 

"Yes, — yes,  I  am  sure  of  it,"  she  said,  coming  a  step 
nearer  to  him  in  her  eagerness,  "  a  harvest  of  great  thoughts 
wisely  spoken  —  of  firm  purposes,  high  standards  —  all 
possible  to  the  brave  and  true,  —  and  I  shall  know  and  be 
very  proud  of  you." 

He  kept  down  by  sheer  force  of  will  the  passionate  cry 
that  rose  to  his  lips.  How  could  anything  stand  between 
them  if  she  only  knew,  —  if  she  only  cared } 

Words,  thoughts  at  least,  like  these  surged  through  his 
brain,  not  singly,  but  in  an  angry  torrent  that  threatened 
to  break  into  articulate  speech  against  his  utmost  striving ; 
yet  what  he  said  was  :  — 

"  I  will  at  least  be  true.  I'm  not  so  sure  about  the  other, 
but  thank  you  none  the  less  for  your  belief  in  it.  Only 
one  thing  more.  From  my  first  meeting  with  you,  Mrs. 
Leverson,  you  have  helped  me  always ;  you  are  helping 
me  now  in  another  way.  I  can't  grasp  all  your  belief  in 
the  coming  good,  but  I  believe  in  you  and  what  you  have 
been  to  me,  and  that's  everything." 

She  met  his  eyes  fearlessly,  though  there  was  pain  in 
hers. 

"  I  believe  the  supreme  test  is  looking  beyond  ourselves," 
she  went  on  steadily ;  "  that  is  why  we  can  help  each  other 
so  much  better  than  we  can  help  ourselves," 

"  Yes,  I  know  ;  we  grow  through  giving." 

"And  gain  through  giving  even  what  we  give,"  she  put 
in,  smiling  a  little  sadly.  "  My  faith  is  always  strongest 
when  I  preach." 


UNSPOKEN  445 

"  Then  you,  too,  have  felt  the  need  of  faith  in  yourself  ? " 
he  asked  thoughtfully. 

"  Say  rather  faith  in  God.  I  have  looked  too  closely  at 
myself  to  see  the  ultimate  good." 

"  Well,  perhaps  it  will  come  to  us  both,"  he  said,  with 
deep  feeling.  "  Our  worlds  will  lie  very  far  apart,  Mrs. 
Leverson,  but  I,  at  least,  have  come  nearer  to  some  such 
faith  through  you ;  I  shall  never  forget  it.     Good-by !  " 

"  Then  I  shall  not  see  you  to-night .-'  " 

His  face  flushed  at  her  words,  but  the  color  died  out  of 
it  again  instantly. 

"  Not  as  I  see  you  now.  To  me  this  is  our  real  parting," 
he  said  slowly.     "  I  shall  never  forget  you,  Mrs.  Leverson." 

"  Nor  I  you,"  she  said,  with  one  of  her  brightest  smiles; 
"  but  I  shall  keep  my  last  good  advice  for  to-morrow.  To- 
day it  is  not  good-by  at  all,  for  I  have,  and  you  must  have, 
great  faith  in  to-morrow." 

He  took  the  hand  she  held  out  to  him,  but  resisted  the 
passionate  impulse  to  raise  it  td  his  lips.  He  dared  not 
trust  himself  to  speak  again. 

Even  though  all  light  went  out  of  the  room  with  her, 
surely  she  had  left  behind  her  some  subtile  fragrance. 
Wheii  he  turned  back  into  the  house,  there  was  joy  in  the 
midst  of  his  sorrow,  for  he  had  known  her.  Even  if  life 
ended  for  him  with  the  going  down  of  the  sun  this  day,  he 
had  lived  and  loved  her. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 


AT   ODDS 


MoBRAY  Doniphan,  always  irregular  in  the  matter  of 
hours,  was  even  less  considerate  than  usual  in  this  respect 
on  the  night  which  followed  Margaret's  visit  to  the  Hill 
Farm. 

After  a  pretence  of  supper,  Owen  Thallon  was  again 
restlessly  pacing  the  study,  pausing  now  and  then  at  the 
deeply  recessed  window  to  look  out  at  the  leaden  pall  of 
cloud  that  had  long  since  blotted  out  the  sinking  sun  and 
was  now  blotting  out  the  valley  and  the  river. 

A  sensation  of  unrest  —  a  dull,  yet  anxious  anticipation, 
as  of  an  impending  crisis  —  had  fastened  itself  upon  him. 
Despite  the  heat  of  the  day  the  night  air  struck  chill  into 
the  room,  and  he  closed  the  long  window  hastily,  as  if 
he  would  shut  out  some  of  his  own  forebodings.  Yet  he 
neither  drew  the  heavy  curtains,  nor  called  for  lights,  but, 
with  eyes  fixed  on  the  cold  glass,  stared  out  into  the  night, 
held  there  by  some  strange  fascination  stronger  than  his 
will. 

He  claimed  no  credit  for  the  frail  hold  by  which  he  had 
maintained  the  mastery  of  himself  that  afternoon.  Noth- 
ing but  a  woman's  unsullied  purity  had  saved  him  from 
his  own  weakness,  and  he  knew  it  only  too  well.  Was  he 
strong  enough  even  now  to  hold  to  a  shadow  of  his  old 
relation  with  her,  and  hold  it  gratefully,  —  not  for  an  hour 
or  a  day,  but  for  a  Hfetime  .-*  How  far  had  she  guessed, 
and  how  far  had  she  favored  it  ?  Would  she  sanction,  if 
she  knew,  the  path  he  had  chosen  that  afternoon  as  the 

446 


AT  ODDS  447 

only  possible  one  for  him  to  follow  ?  No !  She  who  had 
shown  no  sign  of  weakness  would  not  call  it  weak,  as 
Doniphan  had  done.     She  would  understand. 

Of  the  several  forces  working  upon  him  he  was,  at  the 
moment,  most  at  odds  with  that  personified  in  Doniphan, 
whose  coming  he  was  awaiting  with  a  strange  mixture  of 
desire  and  dread.  What  right,  when  all  was  said,  had  this 
man,  in  the  guise  of  a  benefactor,  to  force  upon  him  an 
additional  temptation  .•'  If  he  were  willing  to  part  from 
her  in  silence,  what  more  could  he  be  asked  to  do  ? 

Yet  Doniphan  had  asked  a  great  deal  more ;  had  asked 
him  to  assume  a  position  which,  it  seemed  to  Thallon, 
would  render  further  silence  impossible,  because  it  would 
call  down  upon  his  head,  not  her  forgetfulness,  but  her 
contempt.  How,  to  her,  could  he  ever  afterwards  appear 
as  anything  but  the  self-seeking  fortune-hunter  who  had 
accepted  Ashton  Leverson's  bread  and  salt  to  betray  him. 
The  betrayer's  legal  rights  or  wrongs  would  be  as  nothing 
to  her.  She  was  a  woman ;  she  would  know  only  that 
Ashton  Leverson  had  suffered  at  his  hands,  and  that 
would  be  enough.  The  man  who  had  wronged  her  for 
years  would  turn  out  a  martyr  at  the  last,  and  he, 
Thallon  — !     No ;  he  could  not,  he  would  not,  do  it. 

He  knew  now  why  his  perseverance  in  his  original  pur- 
pose had  begun  to  waver  weeks  ago.  The  growth  of 
years  had  been  thrust  aside  under  the  influence  of  a 
stronger  passion. 

And  this  overmastering  thing  was  what  Doniphan  had 
undertaken  to  combat,  and  would  combat,  as  mercilessly, 
bereft  of  any  taint  of  grossness,  as  if  it  were  the  lowest 
form  of  selfishness.  With  Doniphan  the  insistent  question 
was  not  whether  it  were  generous,  but  whether  it  were 
right. 

The  young  man's  whole  nature,  and  the  best  in  it,  rose 
in  revolt  at  the  mere  thought.    What  he  had  to  give  he 


448  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

had  earned  by  years  of  self-denial.  He  had  worked  for 
this  one  end  that  he  might  dedicate  it  to  a  dead  woman's 
memory ;  and  now  he  actually  grasped  it  between  his 
fingers,  they  ached  to  lay  it  at  the  feet  of  another  woman 
on  the  altar  of  a  stronger  love.  Right  or  wrong,  who  was 
this  man  that  he  should  decide  for  him  in  this  ?  In  any- 
thing else,  perhaps,  yes.  In  this,  no ;  a  thousand  times 
no ! 

How  long  he  sat  there  he  never  knew,  —  a  soul  in 
struggle  takes  no  note  of  time;  but  nothing  roused  him 
until  the  entrance  of  Doniphan's  housekeeper  with  the 
study  lamp.  Mrs.  Weatherby's  flood  of  light  and  cheerful 
conversation  was  not  a  thing  to  be  ignored. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  she  ejaculated ;  "  but  you  quite  gave  me 
a  turn,  Mr.  Thallon,  you  did  really.  I'd  no  idea  you  were 
here,  as  how  should  I  so  long  after  your  usual  hour,  with 
Mr.  Doniphan  not  yet  come,  and  the  rain  beginning. 
Such  a  night,  and  him  not  to  be  counted  on  with  any 
certainty  between  this  and  midnight.  Your  room's  been 
ready  this  half-hour,  for  it's  well  past  eight  already." 

The  tall  figure  of  the  Secretary  had  detached  itself  from 
the  deep  shadow  of  the  window  and  had  moved  into  the 
circle  of  light ;  moved  hastily,  a  quick,  impatient  motion  of 
the  hand  enjoining  silence,  the  head  bent  slightly,  as  if 
listening. 

"  He's  coming  now,"  he  said  quickly.  "  Hold  the  light, 
will  you.''     Hurry,  please." 

He  had  reached  the  hall  as  he  spoke,  and  the  smiling 
Weatherby,  following  breathlessly  in  his  wake,  got  there 
just  in  time  to  find  her  master  swinging  open  the  great 
front  door,  only  closed  again  by  the  united  efforts  of  both 
men  against  a  great  gust  of  rain-soaked  wind. 

"  Hard  night,"  Doniphan  remarked,  panting  a  little,  but 
with  a  ring  of  enjoyment  in  his  voice  as  he  slowly  un- 
buttoned a  dripping  mackintosh.     "  Hard  night  on  horses, 


AT  ODDS  449 

but  good  enough  for  the  average  man.  I'm  glad  you 
waited  up  for  me;  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

"  And  dinner !  "  Mrs.  Weatherby  put  in  parenthetically, 
from  the  study  doorway. 

"  Right  in  now.  I  only  require  a  touch  of  soap  and 
water  and  shan't  stop  to  dress.     I  won't  be  five  minutes." 

He  disappeared  upstairs  two  steps  at  a  time,  Thallon 
watching  him  in  silence  from  below. 

Despite  his  friendUness,  the  younger  man  thought  he 
had  surprised  a  certain  constraint  in  Doniphan's  manner. 
Perhaps  all  this  cheerfulness  was  intended  to  conceal  it. 
Thallon  rejected  the  idea  almost  as  soon  as  it  occurred  to 
him.  His  own  morbid  fancy  was  getting  the  better  of 
him  —  painting  on  other  men's  faces  his  own  thoughts. 
And  yet  there  was  certainly  a  suppressed  excitement  in 
Doniphan  somewhat  at  variance  with  his  words.  He  had 
the  light  of  victory  in  those  sharp,  black  eyes  of  his.  Or 
were  his  high  spirits  merely  the  result  of  battle  with  the 
storm  outside  ? 

The  storm  had  indeed  broken  with  sudden  fury.  Thallon 
—  trying  the  fastenings  of  the  heavy  door  —  could  see 
through  the  small  diamond  panes  on  either  side  of  it  the 
giai^t  willows  below  the  house  bending  low  under  the  whis- 
tling wind.  Far  down  in  the  valley  the  usual  lights  of 
Brockton  were  blotted  out  by  a  curtain  of  slanting  rain.  He 
turned  and  walked  slowly  into  the  great  dining  room  across 
the  hall,  thinking  hard. 

The  dark  curtains  of  the  room  had  been  closely  drawn, 
and  the  lamp  in  the  centre  of  the  white  cloth  filled  the 
place  with  a  warm  glow  not  unwelcome  after  that  glance 
outside.  Mrs.  Weatherby,  bustling  in  and  out  with  mys- 
terious covered  dishes,  failed  not  with  her  usual  running 
accompaniment  of  comment,  quite  indifferent  as  to  her 
possession  of  a  listener.  This  quality  in  Weatherby  suited 
Doniphan  extremely  w^U,    The  sound  of  a  cheerful  human 

2G 


450  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

voice  always  pleased  him,  especially  when  he  was  too  pre- 
occupied to  know  what  it  was  saying. 

"  I'm  that  thankful  he's  got  home,"  she  remarked 
briskly,  as  she  adjusted  a  silver  cover  over  a  smoking 
platter  of  chops.  "  Just  think  of  a  night  like  this  and  him 
with  no  more  sense  than  a  baby.  What's  the  use  of  book- 
learning  if  you  don't  know  enough  to  change  your  clothes 
when  you're  wet  through,  as  I've  told  Mrs.  Faucon  to  her 
face.  He  wouldn't  be  doing  it  now  if  it  wasn't  for  me,  — 
not  alone  through  laying  'em  out  on  his  bed,  but  going  up 
and  calHng  to  him  through  the  door  to  remind  him." 

Mrs.  Weatherby's  eloquence  here  came  to  a  sudden 
pause  through  the  entrance  of  the  person  described,  who, 
thanks  to  her  motherly  care,  appeared  as  dry  as  an  old 
bone,  and  rather  suggestive  of  one  in  face  and  figure. 

Doniphan  dispensed  with  Mrs.  Weatherby's  further  ser- 
vices, and  all  ceremony,  with  a  deprecating  wave  of  his 
thin  hand. 

"  Don't  come  till  I  ring,"  was  all  he  vouchsafed  that 
devoted  woman,  as  she  disappeared  with  the  silver  cover 
and  a  promptness  born  of  long  training.  "  Please  sit 
down,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Thallon.  "You  look  ill;  are 
you  worse .'' " 

The  younger  man  shook  his  head  with  a  touch  of  impa- 
tience. "  I  haven't  waited  for  you  to  tell  you  that,"  he 
said,  with  an  abruptness  almost  rude.  "  I  waited  because 
I  knew  you'd  have  something  to  tell  me." 

Doniphan's  long  fingers  were  moving  busily  amongst  the 
dishes  placed  within  easy  reach  of  them.  He  had  seated 
himself  opposite  the  chair  he  had  indicated  to  Thallon  with 
a  motion  of  his  hand.  For  the  first  time  since  his  entrance 
he  now  glanced  at  his  companion  across  the  table,  though 
he  did  not  pause  in  his  meal  to  do  so. 

"  Yes,  I  have ;  but  the  news  is  not  all  on  one  side. 
Margaret  Leverson  has  been  here  this  afternoon." 


AT  ODDS  451 

"  Then  you've  seen  her," 

"  For  a  moment  only,  but  it  was  enough  for  that.  She 
told  me  she  had  met  you  here,  and  from  the  way  she  told 
me  I  knew  you'd  behaved  like  a  man,  though  there's  noth- 
ing strange  in  that ;  I  knew  you  would." 

The  voice  softened  strangely,  though  his  eyes  were  no 
longer  on  Thallon,  but  were  occupied  in  a  minute  inspec- 
tion of  a  bottle  of  curry.  Thallon  responded  at  once  to 
the  other's  tone. 

"  I  couldn't  go  through  it  again,"  he  said. 

"O  dear  me,  yes,  you  could,"  Doniphan  put  in  with 
instant  tartness.  "  And  don't,  for  Heaven's  sake,  get  it 
into  your  head  that  you  deserve  any  consideration  for  it, 
either.  For  behaving  like  a  man  (which  I  use  in  place  of 
the  much-abused  word  '  gentleman  ')  Margaret  owes  you  no 
thanks.  You  could  have  done  no  less,  even  for  your  own 
sake.  But  this  other  matter  is  different;  that  requires 
some  strength." 

"  You  mean  under  these  changed  conditions  to  pursue 
my  original  purpose  as  to  Leverson  ? "  Thallon  spoke 
slowly ;  his  lips  were  strangely  dry, 

"  Most  assuredly.  How  have  conditions  changed  in  any 
way  except  by  your  own  choosing,  and  a  choice,  at  that, 
against  your  own  sane  judgment.  Come,  come,  my  dear 
fellow,  you've  made  an  error ;  you  must  choose  again  in 
better  accord  with  that  judgment,  and  bring  back  condi- 
tions to  where  they  were  before," 

An  angry  flush  had  sprung  to  Thallon's  face,  markedly 
pale  before.  If  he  had  staggered  an  instant  under  Doni- 
phan's sudden  attack,  he  rallied  almost  instantly, 

"Chosen!"  he  said  with  bitter  emphasis,  "a  choice  be- 
tween the  loss  of  her  respect  on  one  side  and  the  keeping 
it  through  a  life  of  poverty  and  struggle  on  the  other. 
Yes, — if  there  be  any  choice,  then  I've  chosen." 

Doniphan  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork  a  minute  to  look 


452  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

at  him.  If  he  had  any  latent  pity  for  him,  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  showing  it  just  then. 

"  It  might  have  occurred  to  you  that  breaking  away  from 
her  under  such  conditions  would  be  the  best  for  her  and 
for  you  ;  but  that,  after  all,  is  beside  the  question.  Granted 
that  your  renunciation  of  an  old  ambition  has  become  the 
easy  rather  than  the  difficult  thing  to  do,  the  inquiry  re- 
mains, '  Is  it  right .'' '  I  for  one  say,  '  No.'  I  for  one  say 
you  cannot  give  up  the  position  for  which  you've  worked, 
and  rightly  worked,  these  last  three  years  merely  because 
you  fancy  you  love  a  woman  you  have  no  right  to  love. 
That's  what  our  friend  Lindley  would  call  '  drivel.'  " 

Was  he  pressing  him  too  hard .''  If  Doniphan's  object 
was  to  rouse  his  adversary  into  the  carelessness  of  anger, 
he  had,  perhaps,  overshot  the  mark.  Thallon  was  cer- 
tainly angry,  but  he  was  quite  collected.  If  he  fell  back 
now  on  an  argument  far  too  obvious  to  have  escaped  Doni- 
phan's attention,  it  was  more  because  he  wanted  to  know 
the  full  strength  of  Doniphan's  position  than  because  of 
any  special  faith  in  it. 

"  I  think  we  discussed  that  view  of  the  case  this  morn- 
ing," he  said  slowly.  "  It  is  not  of  paramount  importance, 
because  if  I  had  all  the  will  in  the  world  to  claim  the 
Leverson  money,  I  have  as  yet  no  power  to  do  so.  Why 
quarrel  with  me  for  not  wishing  to  go  to  Ashton  Leverson 
without  a  shred  of  legal  proof,  only  to  be  laughed  at  for  my 
pains  ?     You  know  the  man." 

Despite  a  not  unnatural  sense  of  injury  which  rankled 
after  Doniphan's  last  words,  —  despite  his  angry  determi- 
nation to  hold  to  his  present  purpose  and  reject  any  dicta- 
tion on  the  part  of  this  curious  man,  —  it  was  an  added 
pain  to  Thallon  that  in  doing  so  he  risked  the  loss  of  a 
friendship  which  only  yesterday  had  stood  between  him 
and  death.  He  was  never  for  an  instant  unconscious  of 
this  as  he  went  on.     Could  he  but  win  him  over  to  his  own 


AT  ODDS  453 

side !  But  his  last  attempt  had  not  been  very  successful. 
It  seemed  to  have  amused  Doniphan. 

"  That  was  hardly  the  line  of  argument  you  took  with 
me  this  morning,"  the  little  man  said,  smiling  wickedly. 
"  You  considered  then  you  had  sufficient  hold  over  him  to 
dictate  terms  as  to  his  treatment  of  his  wife  (a  proposition 
not  in  the  best  of  taste,  if  you'll  excuse  my  saying  so). 
May  I  ask  if  your  position's  any  weaker  now.**" 

"  No  weaker  and  no  stronger.  I  have  a  shadow  of  title 
by  which  I  might  hope  to  make  some  terms  with  him  in 
her  interests,  none  in  my  own.  I  found  you  in  desperate 
straits,  racked  with  anxiety  about  her.  I  offered  to 
throw  my  secret  into  the  scale  for  what  it  is  worth  —  noth- 
ing more.     I  never  claimed  to  have  legal  proof." 

If  there  was  anything  in  this  appeal  that  touched  Doni- 
phan, he  did  not  show  it.  He  had  pushed  aside  his  empty 
plate  (having  evidently  enjoyed  his  dinner),  and  was  slowly 
pouring  out  a  cup  of  the  blackest  Java  ever  brewed  in 
Brockton.  He  put  the  coffee-pot  back  on  the  spirit  lamp 
at  his  elbow  with  ominous  deliberation. 

"  I've  got  legal  proof  enough,"  he  remarked  icily. 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  in  which  he  said  it 
as  relentless  as  the  whistling  of  the  wind  outside.  The 
words  were  hardly  out  before  a  clap  of  thunder  seemed  to 
shake  the  old  house  to  the  foundation.  Doniphan  got  up, 
walked  over  to  the  window  deliberately,  and  looked  out. 
Thallon  followed  him,  his  square  jaw  set  hard. 

"  From  that  woman  ? "  he  demanded  hoarsely. 

Doniphan  nodded  without  turning. 

"  Yes  ;  why  didn't  you  tell  me  about  her,  it  would  have 
saved  time.  I  only  learned  to-day  of  Jane  Kirk's  strange 
reception  of  you  on  your  advent  at  Elmhurst.  Why  didn't 
you  follow  that  up  }  " 

"  I  did.  I  knew  she  had  concealed  evidence.  My  hand 
was  almost  on  it  weeks  ago,  when  she  veered  like  the 


454  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

wind  under  other  influence.  Then  I  gave  it  up  for  a 
time." 

"  Humph !  Also  under  other  influence.  Well,  it  comes 
to  the  same  thing  ;  I  got  it  out  of  Lindley." 

"  Lindley  ? " 

"  Why,  yes.  He  had  it,  oddly  enough,  from  Leverson 
himself, — but  that  was  a  mere  coincidence.  My  object 
in  going  to  the  Doctor  was,  in  the  first  place,  his  being  my 
only  reliable  witness  of  John  Leverson's  death.  And  it 
was,  as  it  turned  out,  quite  opportune.  It  seems  he  and 
Smalls  have  been  studying  Jane  Kirk's  case  for  some  days 
past  at  Leverson's  request.  They  were  just  starting  for 
Elmhurst  when  I  reached  Lindley's.     I  joined  them." 

"  Dr.  Lindley  could  tell  you  nothing  new,"  Thallon  put 
in  positively.  "  He  had .  no  suspicion  of  any  written 
evidence." 

"  That  is  to  say,  he  did  not  suspect  its  importance.  Very 
likely ;  Lindley's  not  suspicious  naturally,  but  he's  got 
a  memory  for  detail.  For  instance,  he  remembered  that, 
in  addition  to  the  telegram  sent  Leverson  through  Miss 
Laurie,  there  was  a  letter,  quite  a  long  letter,  written  him 
by  the  dying  man." 

Doniphan  had  resumed  his  seat  at  the  table  and  had 
poured  himself  out  another  cup  of  coffee.  His  touch  of 
annoyance  seemed  to  have  passed,  leaving  him  provokingly 
cool  again.  As  much  could  hardly  have  been  said  of 
Thallon.  From  his  place  just  inside  the  circle  of  light  he 
followed  Doniphan's  words  with  breathless  interest. 

"  When  we  got  to  the  house  we  found  Randal  Whitelaw 
waiting  for  us,"  Doniphan  went  on.  "  I  think  we  under- 
stand each  other  pretty  well.  I  made  some  playful  refer- 
ences to  the  sanctity  of  the  United  States  mail  which  he 
seemed  to  enjoy.  I  as  good  as  said,  '  I've  found  you  out. 
You're  a  thief,'  and  he  as  good  as  answered,  '  Prove  it,' 
after  which  we  got  on  nicely.     My  own  idea  is  he  has 


AT  ODDS  455 

Other  sources  of  information  than  your  valise.  What  do 
you  suppose  they  are?" 

Thai  Ion  shook  his  head. 

"  Not  Miss  Laurie,  surely  > " 

"  Not  unless  he  wrung  it  out  of  her.  However,  that's 
immaterial.  He  was  there,  blessed  with  as  much  informa- 
tion as  I  had,  and  as  keenly  on  the  scent.  I  hadn't  been 
in  the  house  five  minutes  before  I  found  out  why." 

"  From  him  ? " 

For  the  first  time  that  night  Doniphan  chuckled. 

"  O  dear,  no  !  From  Mrs.  Leverson.  On  our  arrival 
she  came  downstairs  dressed  for  driving,  —  was  on  her 
way  to  the  station  to  meet  Ashton.  She  looked  pale,  and, 
as  I  thought,  worried.  The  medical  men  went  into  the  long 
drawing-room  to  wait,  while  Whitelaw  went  upstairs  to 
prepare  Miss  Laurie  for  their  coming.  He  has,  I  believe, 
some  legal  oversight  of  the  case.  I  took  Mrs.  Leverson 
into  the  room  Ashton  calls  his  study.  The  girl  needed 
somebody  to  help  her ;  besides  which  I  saw  she  had  some- 
thing to  say,  something,  as  it  shortly  transpired,  of  su- 
preme importance  to  us." 

So  far  Doniphan  had  told  his  story  with  the  same  lei- 
surely precision  with  which  he  sipped  his  coffee.  To  the 
waiting  man  it  seemed  as  if  the  speaker  were  slowly  weav- 
ing a  net  about  his  own  freedom  of  will.  No  mesh  left 
the  weaver's  fingers  untested. 

"  This  morning  Mrs.  Leverson  found  a  packet  of  papers 
in  the  fireplace  of  Ashton's  study,"  Doniphan  went  on, 
"a  packet  apparently  of  old  letters  tied  together  in  the 
middle  by  a  bit  of  tape,  and  slightly  charred  at  one  end. 
Some  one  had  evidently  tried  to  burn  it,  but  had  been 
interrupted  and  left  the  work  unfinished.  She  had  rescued 
it,  and  before  going  out  in  the  afternoon  locked  it  securely 
in  a  drawer  of  her  desk,  intending  to  give  it  to  Leverson 
on  his  return.     When  she  got  back  it  was  gone.     After 


456  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

I  parted  with  Mrs.  Leverson,  who  was  overdue  at  the 
station,  I  went  upstairs  to  have  a  look  at  this  piece  of 
furniture,  the  flimsy  kind  of  a  thing  made  of  veneer  and 
varnish  which  women  call  a  desk.  The  entire  back  of  it 
was  held  in  place  by  half  a  dozen  screws.  By  the  way, 
did  you  ever  see  a  woman  use  a  screw-driver .'' " 

Thallon  never  had. 

"  I  have  !  Mrs.  Weatherby  takes  up  carpets  with  one. 
They  always  use  it  as  if  they  were  filling  teeth.  The 
heads  of  these  screws  were  all  badly  scratched  and  two 
of  them  broken,  —  very  recent  breaks.  In  putting  the 
thing  back  none  of  them  had  been  completely  driven 
home." 

"Jane  Kirk.?" 

*'  Who  else  .-•  Celeste  has  a  firmer  hand,  and  Miss  Laurie 
no  hands  at  all,  only  a  brain.  I  knew  then  why  the  doc- 
tors were  kept  waiting  downstairs.  Their  arrival  had  been 
inopportune.  Randal  Whitelaw  and  Miss  Laurie  were  not 
yet  quite  through  with  Jane  Kirk,  though  twelve  hours 
before  they  had  thought  they  were.  Handicapped  as  she 
is,  she  had  outwitted  them  all  at  the  last  moment.  Well, 
if  I  wanted  to  help  her  I  had  small  time  to  do  it  in.  I 
could  hear  several  persons  moving  in  the  room  above,  and 
stepped  to  the  heavy  portiere,  which  hung  across  Mrs. 
Leverson's  door,  to  listen.  I  hardly  knew  what  I  was 
waiting  for,  —  at  the  moment  I  was  impelled  rather  by 
instinct  than  reason, — but  I  had  not  long  to  wait." 

It  had  begun  to  dawn  on  Thallon  that  Mobray  Doni- 
phan could,  after  all,  tell  a  story.  A  moment  since  his 
listener  had  found  himself  amused  despite  his  racking 
anxiety ;  now  he  found  himself  thrilled  with  an  excitement 
quite  beside  his  personal  interest  in  the  outcome.  It  was 
the  same  scene  in  which  he  had  pictured  himself  as  the 
chief  actor  time  and  time  again  when  he  had  first  come  to 
Brockton.     Had  Doniphan  any  purpose  in  bringing  it  all 


AT  ODDS  457 

back  to  him  —  he  did  not  pause  to  ask  himself  just  then ; 
Doniphan  was  speaking  again. 

"  Some  one  was  coming  down  the  stairway  which  almost 
directly  faced  the  door,  the  light  step  of  a  woman  and  the 
rustle  of  a  woman's  skirts.  She  came  on  cautiously,  as  if 
she  knew  she  was  being  watched,  as  she  doubtless  was 
from  above,  passed  within  a  yard  of  where  I  stood,  then 
back  down  the  corridor  toward  Ashton's  dressing-room. 
I  waited  where  I  was  until  I  saw  Celeste  was  following 
her,  then  I  slipped  back  to  the  communicating  door  be- 
tween the  two  rooms,  a  much  shorter  passage  than  through 
the  hall.  She  was,  however,  already  in  the  room,  had  just 
leaned  across  the  bed  as  if  to  snatch  something  from  be- 
neath the  pillow,  when  she  caught  sight  of  Celeste  through 
the  open  doorway.  I  suppose  the  shock  of  her  discovery 
was  the  last  straw,  the  one  thing  needed  to  completely  up- 
set the  woman's  tottering  reason.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
cry  she  gave  as  she  shrank  into  the  farthermost  corner  of 
the  room,  snarling  and  frothing,  Whitelaw  had  staked 
a  little  too  much  on  his  last  cast,  for  I  was  the  first  person 
in  the  room,  and  before  I  helped  to  Hft  her  on  to  the  bed 
I  had  the  packet  in  the  breast  pocket  of  my  coat." 

Doniphan  tapped  the  spot  lightly  with  his  long  fore- 
finger as  if  to  emphasize  the  assertion,  but  he  appeared  in 
no  hurry  to  produce  this  trophy  of  the  chase.  Thallon 
could  stand  the  strain  no  longer. 

"  You  had  no  knowledge  then  of  what  you  had  found  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  was  absolutely  certain.  The  direction  on 
the  outside  envelope  was  in  John  Leverson's  hand.  Lind- 
ley  identified  it  as  we  drove  home.  The  rest  of  it  (as  I 
found  out  looking  it  over  with  him  by  the  light  of  my 
carriage  lamp)  consisted  of  several  letters  addressed  by 
Andrew  Murray  to  a  Miss  Thallon  in  Belle  Plain,  Iowa,  in 
1865,  and  numerous  post-office  receipts  for  money  sent  by 
this  Miss  Thallon  to  the  firm  of  Murray  &  Warner  up  to 


458  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

the  year  1883.  Oh,  the  thing's  complete  !  The  last  must 
have  been  in  Miss  Laurie's  hands  up  to  John  Leverson's 
death.     How  much  longer  we  can't  say." 

"  And  you  read  these  papers,  none  of  which  were 
directed  to  you,  one  of  which  was  directed  to  Ashton 
Leverson  ? " 

Doniphan's  eyes  snapped. 

"  Most  assuredly.  Miss  Laurie,  or  her  agent,  had  al- 
ready tried  to  destroy  them  once.  Leverson  might  or 
might  not  follow  suit.  I,  for  one,  wouldn't  trust  him.  It 
was  no  time  for  squeamishness,  and  I  had  my  reward. 
You  could  ask  nothing  more  of  the  Leverson  letter ;  it's  a 
full  confession.  He  entreats  Ashton  to  find  you  at  all  costs." 

"  Then  you  were  right !  He  had  not  ignored  !  He  had 
not  forgotten  !     Let  me  see  for  myself." 

The  hand  which  Thallon  stretched  out  shook  percep- 
tibly, the  face  was  haggard  with  suppressed  emotion. 

There  was  an  answering  light  in  the  elder  man's  eyes. 
He  was  not  unmoved,  and  was  moreover  far  too  sharp  not 
to  see  that  he  had  touched  a  spring  in  the  other  man's 
character  which  might  prove  useful  to  him.  He  had  al- 
ready drawn  a  small  bundle  of  papers  from  that  breast 
pocket  and  was  holding  it  toward  Thallon  across  the 
table,  a  packet  tied  in  the  middle  by  a  bit  of  tape,  and 
slightly  charred  at  one  end. 

He  relapsed  into  discreet  silence  while  Thallon  tore  off 
the  frayed  string  and  ran  his  eyes  hungrily  over  the 
written  words. 

"He  seems  to  have  trusted  Ashton  completely,"  the 
younger  man  said  presently,  as  he  laid  down  the  yellow, 
crumbling  paper. 

"  Very  foolish  of  him." 

Thallon  glanced  at  the  speaker  rather  quizzically :  "  I 
understood  you  yesterday  as  maintaining  some  sort  of 
faith   in   Leverson.      You   spoke  then  as  if  it  would   be 


AT  ODDS  459 

quite  safe  to  trust  him.  Didn't  you  say  something  to  that 
effect  ? " 

"  I  said  he  would  not  lie,  and  that  he  would  stick  to  an 
agreement  if  one  could  be  forced  on  him,  and  I  say  so  now. 
As  yet  it's  not  necessary  for  him  to  lie,  nor  has  any 
agreement  been  forced  on  him.  If  you  once  give  him  the 
chance  to  trample  down  what  he  will  consider  an  attack 
upon  his  rights,  you'll  find  him  capable  of  doing  it." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that.  Remember  that  in  this  way 
Ashton  Leverson  has  not  yet  been  tested.  Miss  Laurie  did 
not  dare  to  test  him,  and  she  knew  him  better  than  you  do. 
A  man  above  lying  is  not  likely  to  steal." 

"  He  would  not  regard  it  as  stealing.  Three  years  ago 
he  might  have  settled  with  you  honestly,  without  compul- 
sion ;  but  not  since  he's  touched  the  pitch  of  speculation 
and  felt  the  itch  of  the  gambler,  and  a  crooked  one  at  that. 
The  man  is  buried  to  the  neck  in  obligations ;  anything 
short  of  your  complete  surrender  means  his  ruin.  Bargain 
with  him  as  you  please,  but  don't  go  to  him  with  the  one 
written  proof  of  your  case  in  your  right  hand  and  a  pleas- 
ant form  of  compromise  on  your  lips.     It's  dangerous." 

"As  far  as  the  money  goes  I've  no  desire  to  compro- 
mise." 

"Just  as  I  thought.  You'll  throw  that  away  and  with  it 
all  chance  of  doing  anything  with  him.  You'll  do  it  think- 
ing you're  protecting  her,  just  as  you  thought  you  were 
protecting  her  when  you  threw  Dupr^  on  to  your  own 
track,  and  a  sweet  mess  you  made  of  that  !  " 

The  hot  color  had  rushed  to  Thallon's  face. 

"  Who  told  you  that .-'  "  he  demanded  angrily. 

"  Margaret  Leverson  herself." 

Perhaps  Doniphan's  thrust  struck  nearer  home  than  he 
had  meant  it  should.  The  younger  man  was  leaning  heav- 
ily against  the  table,  his  face  gone  white  again,  as  he 
asked,  "  Who  told  her  ?  " 


460  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  Reggie,  I  believe." 

Doniphan  was  positively  brutal.  He  ignored  the  anxiety 
in  the  other  man's  tone ;  his  own  heart  was  in  this  passage 
of  arms. 

"  Does  she  know  of  Leverson's  connection  with  the  case  ? " 

"  O  dear,  no.  Reggie  managed  to  keep  that  much 
from  her.  He  only  told  her  about  you  because  he  wanted 
to  make  an  interesting  deathbed  scene.  That  sort  of  thing 
makes  me  ill." 

"  You  can  hardly  blame  me  for  it." 

"It  could  hardly  have  happened  without  you.  How- 
ever, that  can't  be  helped  now.  What  I  want  to  prevent 
is  anything  more  like  it.  To  go  back  to  Leverson,  you 
won't  see  him  until  he's  seen  Whitelaw,  He's  in  this  too ; 
don't  forget  that." 

"  How  did  you  part  from  him  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  met  him  fairly.  When  the  excitement  had  sub- 
sided and  the  two  physicians  had  driven  away  with  their 
charge  (obviously  no  longer  safe  at  Elmhurst),  he  turned 
to  me  in  that  consummately  cool  way  of  his  and  asked  me 
if  Mrs.  Leverson  had  recovered  her  lost  property.  '  Ash- 
ton's,'  I  corrected  pleasantly,  '  some  old  letters  sent  him 
three  years  ago  and  miscarried.  Jane  Kirk  had  hidden 
them,  it  seems,  here  in  this  room.  I  have  them  safe 
now;  make  your  mind  quite  easy,  I'll  see  he  gets  them.'  " 

"  How  could  you  promise  that  .■'  The  papers  may  be 
directed  to  Leverson,  but  they  contain  a  secret  which 
belongs  to  me." 

Thallon's  voice  was  harsh  and  abrupt.  He  spoke  rap- 
idly, his  eyes  fixed  on  Doniphan.  If  Doniphan,  absorbed 
in  his  narrative,  had  forgotten  for  a  moment  the  latent  oppo- 
sition lurking  in  a  Square,  set  jaw,  the  other's  tone  reminded 
him  of  it  now.     He  met  it  more  than  halfway. 

"  Ah  !  But  does  it  altogether  ?  "  he  asked,  smiling.  "  I 
think  I  disputed  that  this  morning  with  more  or  less  plausi- 


AT  ODDS  461 

bility.  Since  then  I  may  have  earned  an  additional  right 
to  enter  ray  protest  against  your  throwing  away  this  inheri- 
tance. I  might  remind  you  I've  just  put  it  into  your  hands 
at  some  Httle  risk  and  inconvenience  to  myself.  Of  course, 
I  see  how  you  look  at  it.  You  think  if  you  do  this  thing 
without  her  knowledge,  —  if  you  compromise  with  Ashton 
to  his  advantage  and  to  hers,  —  you  are  doing  the  magnani- 
mous, the  unselfish,  thing.  I  tell  you  you  have  no  right 
to  compromise  with  evil  or  be  magnanimous  toward  a 
swindle,  and  you  know  well  she  would  not  accept  it  at 
your  hand  if  she  knew." 

"  She  must  never  know  !     I  forbid  you  to  tell  her !  " 

Doniphan's  eyes  glittered  disagreeably.  The  dictatorial 
side  of  him  was  at  the  moment  uppermost,  and  it  was 
chafed  cruelly  by  that  one  small  offensive  word.  He  was 
painfully  aware  that  here  he  was  not  dealing  with  the 
graceful  Reggie,  but  with  a  man  who,  whatever  else  he 
lacked,  did  not  lack  decision.  The  hard  level  of  his  voice 
was  not  intended  to  conceal  his  sneer  as  he  remarked :  — 

"  That's  strong  language,  but  accepting  it  without  com- 
ment, what  then  ?  Supposing  no  one  else  tells  her,  which 
is  supposing  a  good  deal,  and  that  I  obey  you,  which  as 
yet  is  not  quite  settled  ?  You  renounce  what  two  months 
since  was  your  high  ambition.  You  relinquish  the  cleans- 
ing of  your  mother's  memory  from  the  slur  of  a  secret 
marriage  under  an  assumed  name,  disregard  the  dying  wish 
of  the  man  who  wronged  her,  that  his  injustice  should  be 
righted.     What  then,  Owen  Leverson  ? " 

Doniphan  had  seen  his  first  stroke  tell  as  he  watched 
the  deadly  white  face  before  him.  He  followed  up  his 
advantage  mercilessly  as  he  fastened  the  name  upon  him. 

"And  you  accomplish  all  this  for  what."*  Ashton  Lev- 
erson settles  into  respectable  affluence.  Margaret  accepts 
her  lot  with  proper  resignation.  Randal  Whitelaw  and  the 
Colonel  reap  a  rich  harvest  under  the  wing  of  the  Great 


462  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Combine.  Every  one  worth  considering  is  happy,  and 
poor  little  Brockton  goes  to  the  devil.  The  only  trouble 
with  it  all  is  that  poor  little  Brockton  happens  to  be  right, 
and  you  —  all  wrong." 

"  I  don't  quite  follow  you." 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  can  make  it  clearer.  I  had  it  from 
Whitelaw  a  week  or  so  ago,  at  the  time  when  the  stars  in 
their  courses  were  inclined  to  the  side  of  the  ungodly, 
that  if  the  Trust  had  any  difficulty  with  their  hands  the 
Brockton  Works  would  be  moved  to  Harrisburg  without 
a  moment's  compunction.  Perhaps  you  don't  know  what 
that  means.  If  you  want  to  know,  go  and  look  at 
Therlow,  the  place  where  they  dismantled  the  Works 
four  years  ago.  It  used  to  support  five  thousand  people, 
—  it's  a  howling  wilderness  now.  And  what  does  it 
mean  in  Brockton  .-•  not  merely  that  Lindley's  scheme 
and  mine  for  the  decent  housing  of  some  five  or  six 
hundred,  women  and  children  goes  up  in  smoke,  —  that 
would  be  only  the  relinquishment  of  any  hope  of  better- 
ment,—  but  the  taking  from  them  the  homes  they've  got. 
In  short,  the  death  blow  to  a  miserable  little  town,  which 
with  all  its  faults  is  yet  not  quite  on  a  level  with  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah.  Meanwhile  the  place  you  ought  to  occupy 
stands  empty,  and  the  men  who  are  gambling  with  your 
money  play  the  merry  game  to  the  end.  When  they  make 
that  last  move  they  will  be  met  by  riot  and  murder,  for  the 
class  we  work  for  can  always  be  counted  on  to  put  itself 
in  the  wrong.  And  who  will  care .-"  Not  Whitelaw  nor 
the  Colonel  nor  Leverson.  They  will  be  provided  for  out 
of  your  bounty,  not  Margaret,  —  for  she  will  never  hear  of 
it,  —  but  the  stain  of  it  will  lie  at  your  door." 

The  voice  was  low  pitched,  yet  every  word  was  terribly 
distinct.  He  had  extended  a  long  forefinger,  like  some 
merciless  index,  at  the  man  he  arraigned,  as  if  he  were 
probing    into   the   deepest   depths   of    conscious   motive. 


AT  ODDS  463 

Down  into  the  hidden  places  of  a  conscience  he  himself 
had  had  his  share  in  building  up,  Mobray  Doniphan  pushed 
forward  what  he  claimed  as  his  higher  right.  Could  Thal- 
lon  defeat  that  purpose  with  the  assertion  that  love  came 
first  ?  Doniphan  must  have  seen  it  coming,  for  his  next 
words  answered  it. 

"  You  are  not  even  giving  this  thing  up  for  her  sake, 
but  for  your  own.  You  do  not  dare,  to  take  your  rightful 
place  for  fear  she  will  misunderstand  your  motives.  And 
if  she  did,  is  that  the  worst  thing  that  could  happen  in 
heaven  or  earth  ?  Your  whole  attitude  turns  on  yoiir 
secret  consciousness  that  the  girl  loves  you.  You  will  give 
her  up,  but  not  that  belief,  —  anything  but  that ! " 

A  great  light  had  come  into  the  other  man's  face. 

"It  is  true,"  he  said  slowly;  "anything  else;  but  that 
—  never ! " 

"You  will  not  put  it  into  my  hands  to  explain  to 
her.?" 

"  No  ;  I  will  not  strike  him  through  her.  I  am  going  to 
Elmhurst  to-night ;  I  shall  see  him  and  force  a  promise 
from  him  for  her  protection.  Beyond  that  I  shall  exact 
nothing.  You  have  just  said  that  anything  else  meant 
ruiii  to  him,  and  I  know  it,  for  I  know  his  affairs  well.  I 
can't  ruin  him,  I  can't  ruin  her  own  father,  and  then  go  to 
her  and  tell  her  I  did  it  because  it  was  the  right  thing  to 
do.  I  don't  believe  it  is  right ;  but  if  I  did  believe  so,  I 
shouldn't  do  it." 

"  And  you  still  hold  to  your  threat  if  she  learns  the  truth 
and  breaks  with  him  .■• " 

"  She's  not  likely  to  learn  the  truth  and  break  with  him ; 
but  if  she  ever  does,  my  threat,  as  you  call  it,  holds  good, 
and  more  than  good." 

Doniphan  paused  a  moment  to  thinl?:. 

"  I  advise  you  not  to  go  there  to-night ;  better  think  this 
over.     Wait  until  to-morrow,  at  least." 


464  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

That  he  put  it  in  the  form  of  a  request  surprised  even 
Doniphan  himself. 

"  I  can't  wait.  They  expect  me  to-night ;  they  leave  to- 
morrow. Besides,  Whitelaw  may  act  —  put  Leverson  on 
guard  — ruin  everything." 

"  Well,  this  is  my  last  word.  Take  a  copy  of  the  papers, 
not  the  originals.  You  are  deahng  with  men  under  great 
temptation." 

Thallon  smiled.  "  There  again  I'm  only  agreeing  with 
you.  He  has  his  limits,  as  you've  said.  I'll  risk  his  play- 
ing fair  if  only  because  I've  nothing  to  lose  I  care  for." 

He  was,  as  he  spoke,  gathering  together  the  papers, 
which  lay  scattered  on  his  side  of  the  table.  Doniphan's 
voice  shook  slightly  in  spite  of  his  best  endeavors. 

"They're  yours  to  do  with  as  you  like,"  he  returned 
slowly,  "even  if  it  parts  us." 

He  turned,  walked  toward  the  door,  his  head  bent. 
When  he  got  to  it  he  stopped  abruptly. 

"  If  you're  going  to  Elmhurst  to-night,  I'll  order  the 
carriage,"  he  said  sharply.  "You  know  well  enough  it's 
no  night  for  you  to  go  three  miles  afoot." 

Thallon  sprang  toward  him,  his  face  aglow. 

"  You  will  forgive  me !  "  he  cried  hoarsely. 

"  No  hysterics,"  Doniphan  retorted,  his  hand  on  the 
door.  "  If  you  loved  the  girl  half  as  well  as  I  do,  you'd 
love  some  other  things  still  more.  However,  let  me  know 
at  breakfast  how  you  come  out.  I'm  still  interested  in  the 
romance,  though  it's  not  ending  happily. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Doniphan  went  out  of  that 
room  with  a  sense  of  defeat  strong  upon  him. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

MARGARET   SENDS   A    MESSAGE 

The  late  afternoon  was  fading  into  early  evening  an 
hour  before  its  time,  when  Margaret  Leverson  drove  out 
through  the  Elmhurst  gates,  bound  for  the  station. 

Though  the  storm  had  not  yet  broken,  the  wind  had 
freshened  perceptibly,  driving  before  it  a  scud  of  ragged 
gray  mist.  The  harsh  cry  of  a  wild  duck  as  he  sped 
towards  the  shelter  of  the  river  marshes  in  the  gathering 
darkness  sustained  the  sense  of  expected  strain  and  stress 
in  the  air  about  her, 

Margaret  drew  up  the  window  of  the  brougham  less  be- 
cause she  felt  the  chill  of  the  night  air,  than  because  she 
wanted  to  shut  out  the  troubled  world  outside,  wanted  to  be 
alone  with  her  own  thoughts  during  these  last  few  moments 
she  could  call  her  own. 

Doniphan,  with  all  his  shrewdness,  had  misinterpreted 
the  underlying  cause  of  that  strained  look  in  her  face. 
The  mysterious  loss  of  the  little  packet  had,  it  is  true, 
for  the  moment  startled  her,  but  more  because  it  accen- 
tuated that  sensation  that  she  was  watched,  than  because 
she  had  attached  to  the  loss  itself  any  special  importance. 
The  true  cause  of  her  unrest  lay  much  deeper,  in  the  storm- 
tossed  depths  of  her  own  soul.  For  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  dreaded  observation ;  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
she  was  conscious  of  having  something  to  conceal. 

She  leaned  wearily  back  on  the  soft  cushions  of  the 
carriage  and  tried  to  think  it  out.  Two  sharply  contending 
3H  465 


466  THE  BEATEN   PA'i'lI 

forces  had  been  struggling  for  the  mastery  within  her  these 
many  hours,  and  although  she  believed  that  the  ultimate 
victory  lay  with  the  force  of  duty,  inclination  was  dying 
very  hard.  Even  as  she  forced  it  down  and  trampled  on  it, 
it  rose  again,  subtilely  tempting,  insistent,  utterly  refusing 
to  be  set  aside. 

It  was  always  the  same,  this  vision  which  had  come  to  a 
girl  of  twenty,  this  vision  of  what  she  might  have  had  if 
she  had  only  known.  It  typified  itself  in  a  face  —  young 
like  her  own,  but  very  strong  in  its  square  masculine  lines. 
Though  her  mind  was  conjuring  up  an  endless  procession 
of  faces,  —  the  Rector's,  Doniphan's,  Leverson's,  —  this 
one  face  forced  itself  before  them  all  relentlessly. 

It  would  be  useless  for  her  to  close  her  eyes  to  the 
subtile,  intangible  change  that  had  come  to  her  since  she 
had  risen  that  morning.  It  was  there,  do  what  she  would  ; 
it  was  there  even  if,  as  far  as  lay  within  the  power  of  her 
will,  she  blotted  out  all  vestige  of  that  wild  elation  which 
had  sprung  into  her  heart  on  her  first  recognition  of  it. 
Had  she  indeed  eaten  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  and  must 
she  surely  die  as  the  penalty  of  a  moment's  joy .-' 

The  hot  blood  rushed  to  her  face  as  she  remembered 
that  joy,  not  contrition,  had  marked  that  first  moment  of 
awakening.  And  even  after  that,  there  had  been  in  the 
midst  of  the  great  struggle  the  insistent  question  —  what 
harm  could  it  do  to  her.-*  this  knowledge  that  she,  with 
the  light  of  youth  in  heart,  might  have  loved  and  been 
loved  like  other  women  and  been  supremely  happy. 

Yes,  though  her  lips  had  been  silent,  her  face  calm, 
that  he,  in  very  shame,  might  not  see,  her  soul  had  toyed 
with  the  temptation  before  it  had  risen  to  do  battle 
with  it. 

It  had  come  over  her  in  a  great  wave  of  feeling,  even 
before  she  had  touched  his  hand  at  parting,  that  this  man 
loved  her.     All  differences  between  them,  differences  of 


MARGARET  SENDS  A   MESSAGE  467 

temperament,  station,  ties  of  blood,  bonds  of  duty,  had  van- 
ished into  thin  air  in  that  one  instant  of  time. 

And  was  it  enough  now  that  she  had  regained  her  hold 
upon  the  last  ?  Had  that  moment's  breaking  down  of  a 
soul's  defences  left  behind  it  merely  a  temptation  to  be 
resisted,  or  a  sin  to  be  expiated  ?  Could  it  find  lodgement 
for  one  hour  and  leave  her  what  she  had  been  before  ? 
Could  it  have  come  to  her  at  all,  had  she  been  what  she 
had  always  thought  herself  to  be  ? 

Her  keenest  anguish  was  for  the  past,  not  for  the  future. 
Her  pride  —  her  womanhood  —  would  help  her  there.  She 
knew  well  what  she  had  to  do.  Never  in  her  whole  life 
had  she  clung  more  tenaciously  to  her  woman's  sense  of 
duty  than  in  the  moment  of  her  admission  that  save  for 
that  duty  she  might  have  found  happiness  and  love. 

She  was  feverishly  anxious  to  take  up  the  broken  thread 
of  her  life,  to  sacrifice  every  selfish  wish,  to  devote  every 
particle  of  strength  left  in  her,  to  the  service  of  her  hus- 
band. As  she  drove  on  in  the  gathering  dusk  she  forced 
herself  to  think  of  the  future,  yearning  hungrily  to  find 
fresh  opportunity  for  expiation.  She  longed  now  to  leave 
Brockton  for  good  and  all,  as  ardently  as  a  few  short  hours 
before  she  had  clung  to  it.  It  seemed  to  her  as  she  looked 
back  over  her  life  that  Ashton  had,  after  all,  asked  very 
little  of  her.     Oh,  he  should  see,  he  should  see ! 

Even  the  sudden  stoppage  of  the  brougham  hardly 
roused  her  from  her  abstraction,  not,  at  least,  until  it  was 
supplemented  by  a  voice  of  rather  warm  expostulation 
from  the  box  seat. 

She  was  surprised  to  note,  on  glancing  out  of  the  window, 
that  they  had  not  yet  entered  Brockton.  It  seemed  hours 
to  her  since  she  had  left  Elmhurst.  Her  mind  came  back 
to  the  present  in  a  bound.  She  let  down  the  side  window 
and  looked  out,  her  eyes  taking  a  confused  impression  of 
a  plunging  horse  and  a  tall  figure  at  the  bridle,  which,  in 


468  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

the  indistinctness  of  the  gloom  and  the  drifting  mist 
might  have  been  either  man  or  woman. 

The  voice  of  Thomas  was  raised  in  something  more 
than  polite  protest,  tempered  only  by  the  presence  of  his 
mistress. 

"  I  want  ter  see  him,  I  tell  ye,  an'  I  will  too,  ef  I  was  ter 
hang  fer  it,"  a  woman's  voice  retorted  defiantly. 

Margaret  was  entirely  herself  again  as  she  grasped  this 
new  necessity  for  action.  She  demanded  to  know  the 
cause  of  the  interruption  in  a  tone  which  admitted  of  no 
trifling.  Thomas,  perhaps,  felt  some  of  the  embarrass- 
ment of  helpless  innocence. 

"  She's  a  mill  hand,  Mrs.  Leverson,  by  the  look  of  her," 
he  said,  peering  into  the  gloom,  "an'  gone  stark  mad  I 
should  say  by  the  actions  of  her.  Hi!  say,  let  go,  will 
you  ? "  he  went  on,  changing  his  manner  again  as  he 
addressed  the  persistent  phantom.  "  Let  go,  or  I  can't 
hold  the  boss,  an'  if  I  don't  you'll  be  gittin'  hurt,  you  will !  " 

Margaret  opened  the  carriage  door,  leaning  slightly  for- 
ward for  a  better  view.  She  had  not  been  able  to  catch 
the  phantom's  words,  but  the  threatening  quality  of  the 
tone  had  not  escaped  her.  She  still  carried  the  recollec- 
tion of  that  scene  in  the  main  street  of  Brockton  the  day 
of  Meyer's  triumph.  There  was  the  same  accent  of  in- 
tense hatred  in  this  voice.  Was  it  directed  at  her  now,  as 
it  had  been  then,  because  she  was  Ashton  Leverson's  wife .-' 
If  so,  she  was  bound  to  listen  to  its  complaint  patiently. 
She  had  just  been  asking  to  do  or  suffer  something  for 
him ;  perhaps  she  was  being  answered  already. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  asked  quietly.  "  I  think  I  heard  my 
name,    I  am  Mrs.  Leverson  ;  can  I  do  anything  for  you  ?  " 

The  words  had  an  instant  effect  upon  the  defiant  figure 
at  the  horse's  head.  To  begin  with,  it  loosed  its  hold  and 
moved  quickly  toward  Margaret,  where  the  light  from 
the  side  lantern  fell  full  upon   it.     Margaret   started  as 


MARGARET  SENDS  A   MESSAGE  469 

she  recognized  Louise  Dupr6,  though  she  was  changed, 
strangely  changed,  since  she  had  last  seen  her. 

"  Yes,  'tis,"  she  remarked,  as  she  scanned  Margaret's  face 
deliberately.  "  I  never  reckoned  to  see  ye  agin,  but  it  turns 
out  so.     'Twasn't  you  I  wanted,  but  him.     Where  is  he  .'  " 

"  Are  you  speaking  of  Mr.  Leverson  ?  "  Margaret  asked, 
much  puzzled.  She  knew  enough  of  the  girl's  story  to 
know  she  was  wanted  by  the  Brockton  police  as  a  witness 
against  her  father.  Her  disappearance  was  universally 
ascribed  to  her  unwillingness  to  be  used  for  that  purpose 
in  the  hands  of  a  shrewd  district  attorney.  This  search 
for  Leverson  might  have  something  to  do  with  that. 

"  Yes,  it's  him,"  the  girl  retorted  impatiently.  "  I  can't 
put  it  no  plainer,  can  I  .-•  I've  got  ter  see  him  right  away ; 
it's  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  I  tell  you." 

Although  Margaret  was  not  disposed  to  attach  too  much 
importance  to  this  last  assertion,  the  girl's  suffering  was 
obvious.  She  instantly  recalled  Antoine  Dupr^'s  visit  to 
Elmhurst  and  his  desire  to  enlist  Leverson's  aid  in  his 
search  for  his  daughter.  Why  this  persistent  linking  of 
her  husband's  name  with  these  people's  misery  and  shame, 
both  so  completely  foreign  to  him,  so  entirely  outside  his 
range  of  vision.  She,  Margaret,  had  felt  so  bitterly  against 
Dupr6  for  his  cowardly  crime,  and  yet  it  had  been  the  means 
of  drawing  her  closer  to  —  God's  mercy !  how  everything 
dragged  her  back  to  that,  even  in  the  midst  of  this  still 
greater  misery  that  should  have  lifted  her  above  herself. 

Poor  Louise  Dupr6  was  very  far  from  understanding  the 
gentleness  which  softened  Margaret's  next  words. 

"  Child,  child,  do  not  seek  him  with  any  hope  of  better- 
ing your  father's  condition  or  your  own,"  she  said,  laying 
that  expressive  hand  of  hers  on  the  girl's  arm  with  an 
infinite  tenderness.  "  He  cannot  possibly  help  you.  He 
has  no  influence,  and  could  not  honestly  use  it  if  he  had." 

Louise  Dupr6  drew  away  the  arm  with  an  angry  ges- 


470  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

ture.  Her  lips  curled  scornfully,  her  eyes  had  a  curious 
glitter  in  them,  under  the  flickering  light  of  the  carriage 
lamp.  The  wind  was  lashing  some  stray  locks  of  her 
black  hair  against  her  face,  and  a  drop  or  two  of  the 
coming  rain  struck  it  spitefully,  but  she  winced  at  neither. 
Her  look  was  fixed  on  the  other  woman's  face  in  a  cold, 
hard  stare. 

"Well,  ye  beat  me !  "  she  began,  with  slow  scorn.  "Ye 
seem  to  know  him  nearly  as  well  as  I  do,  —  only  ye  seems 
to  like  it.  If  that's  bein'  a  lady  an'  his  wife,  I  wishes  ye 
joy  of  it,  though  ye  think  me  the  dirt  under  yer  feet.  No, 
no !  Louise  Dupre's  got  more  spirit  than  that  if  her  father 
is  in  prison.  D'ye  think  she  came  whinin'  ter  him  for 
charity  to-night }  Not  much  she  didn't.  It's  not  favors, 
but  rights,  she'll  talk  about  when  she  once  lays  eyes  on  him. 

0  Mother  of  God  !  —  when  she  once  lays  eyes  on  him  !  " 
She  had  worked  herself  into  a  fury  by  this  time,  a  com- 
plete abandonment  of  rage,  her  eyes  blazing. 

Margaret  was  perfectly  calm.  The  obvious  necessity  of 
quieting  the  girl  could  not  blind  her  to  this  heart-breaking 
misery.  Louise  Dupre  had  asked  no  pity,  but  she  gave  it 
without  measure. 

"  I  cannot  listen  to  you  when  you  talk  like  that,  nor  can 

1  stay  here  longer  now/'  she  said;  "but  to-morrow,  when 
you  are  calmer,  I  would  like  to  see  you.  I  will  come  to 
you  early  in  the  morning  if  you  will  tell  me  where  you  are 
staying." 

Louise  Dupr6  broke  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"  Ye  needn't  take  the  trouble  ter  call,"  she  said  derisively. 
"  Ye'll  see  me  first  at  Elmhurst,  I  reckon." 

"  Very  well,"  Margaret  said  quietly.  "  In  the  morning 
early,  say  at  seven.  I  leave  Brockton  to-morrow,  as  you 
must  have  heard." 

Her  hand  was  on  the  check  strap,  the  carriage  door 
was  closing.     Louise  Dupre  saw  her  intention  in  a  flash 


MARGARET  SENDS  A   MESSAGE  47 1 

and  seized  the  swinging  panel.  One  of  those  swift,  inex- 
plicable changes  had  come  over  her  without  any  apparent 
cause.  She  had  one  foot  on  the  carriage  step ;  her  face, 
now  within  a  yard  of  Margaret's,  was  white  with  terror. 

"  Ye're  goin'  for  him  now,"  she  cried  hoarsely,  "  but 
don't  ye  do  it.  Don't  meet  him  at  the  station.  Don't  go 
back  with  him  to  his  softly  carpeted  house,  with  its  warm 
fires  an'  lights,  an'  its  dainty  food.  Don't  go !  I  say,  or 
he'll  drag  ye  down  as  he  drags  down  everything  else  he 
touches ! " 

Margaret,  for  once,  was  touched  with  a  personal  fear,  for 
she  now  believed  the  girl  bereft  of  reason.  But  if  it  were 
so,  Louise  Dupre  recovered  quickly.  She  had  hardly  fin- 
ished speaking  before  she  dropped  back  into  the  darkness. 
The  carriage  door  closed  with  a  bang ;  the  horse,  until 
now  held  in  with  difficulty,  plunged  forward,  and  Margaret 
lost  sight  of  her.  Nevertheless,  an  instant  later  she  thought 
she  could  hear  a  voice  calling  after  her :  "  Don't  go  back 
to-night,  I  say  !     Don't  go  back  to-night !  " 

The  brougham  had  just  begun  to  rattle  over  the  Brock- 
ton pavements  when  Margaret,  staring  mechanically  out  of 
the  window,  gave  a  little  cry  of  delight.  This  new  problem 
seemed  solved  for  her  even  while  she  was  puzzling  over  it. 
On  the  sidewalk,  within  a  few  yards  of  her,  walking  rapidly 
toward  her,  was  her  brother  Reggie.  He  saw  her,  or 
rather  the  Leverson  carriage,  almost  as  soon  as  she  saw 
him,  and  paused  at  the  curb  as  Thomas  drove  up  to  it. 
She  was,  however,  hardly  prepared  for  Reggie's  reception 
of  her. 

"You  must  have  heard  the  news,"  he  cried  joyously, 
putting  a  small,  well-shaped  hand  in  through  the  open 
window  of  the  brougham,  his  face  close  behind  it.  "  I'm 
engaged ! " 

"  Oh,  Reggie !  "  she  said,  with  a  quick  catch  of  the  breath. 
"  I'm  very,  very  glad.     When  did  it  happen  ?  " 


472  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Reggie  looked  at  his  watch.  There  were  times  when  he 
could  be  provokingly  exact. 

"  Less  than  two  hours  ago.  I'm  on  my  way  back  to  the 
Rectory  now.  I  haven't  interviewed  the  Reverend  yet, 
but  I  think  it's  coming  through  all  right.  Hilda's  said 
yes,  and  that's  the  main  thing.  I  say,  my  dear  girl,  what's 
the  matter.?" 

"  Nothing,  dear.  Do  you  know  where  I  could  find  Mr. 
Meyer  > " 

"  That's  not  what  you  wanted  to  ask  me.  Something's 
wrong ;  what  is  it  ?  " 

"Reggie  —  if  you  could  only  find  him!  I've  just  met 
Louise  Dupr6.  The  girl  is  bent  on  mischief — I  think, 
rather  to  herself  than  others.  It  may  have  been  a  mile  back 
on  the  road  to  Elmhurst.  I  doubt  her  sanity  ;  her  father's 
crime  seems  to  have  turned  her  brain.  She  was  very  threat- 
ening and  abusive,  especially  against  Ashton.  Her  hatred 
of  him  is  beyond  comprehension,  but  that  is  no  reason  why 
she  should  be  left  to  do  herself  harm.  I  want  you  to  find 
Mr.  Meyer  —  get  a  horse  at  the  Everett  and  go  in  search 
of  her.  Alone  you  could  do  nothing  with  her,  but  he  has 
a  wonderful  influence  with  these  people.  Go  to  him  at 
once;  waste  no  time.  Hilda  will  understand  when  she 
knows ! " 

She  was  almost  incoherent,  and  yet  Reggie  not  only 
seemed  to  understand  her,  but  to  be  stirred  by  her  words 
to  an  excitement  even  greater  than  her  own.  His  face 
had  paled  slightly  at  Margaret's  first  mention  of  the  girl's 
name,  but  he  had  started  violently  when  she  had  spoken 
of  the  girl's  anger  against  Ashton. 

"  She  made  no  definite  threat  ? "  he  paused  to  ask. 

"  No,  no !  All  she  said  was  quite  vague.  My  great 
fear  is  for  the  girl  herself.  She  promised  to  come  to  Elm- 
hurst and  see  me  in  the  morning,  but  I  have  no  faith  in 
her  keeping  to  it." 


MARGARET  SENDS  A  MESSAGE  473 

Reggie  looked  much  relieved.  "That's  much  better,"  he 
said  encouragingly.  "It  gives  us,  at  any  rate,  a  fair  amount 
of  time.     Which  way  did  she  go  when  you  left  her }  " 

"  She  simply  stood  there  in  the  road,  but  I've  an  im- 
pression she  followed  the  carriage  toward  Brockton." 

"  Good  again,"  Reggie  said,  brightening. 

Margaret  could  not  understand  his  sudden  change  of 
mood.  Instead  of  reassuring  her,  it  seemed  rather  to 
deepen  her  fears.  She  made  a  little  motion  of  the  hands 
that  was  full  of  earnest  appeal. 

"Oh,  Reggie,"  she  cried,  "you'll  not  delay  }  You  have 
all  your  happiness  ahead  of  you.  Put  this  first  now.  I 
can't  leave  to-morrow  until  I  know  she's  safe.  Mr.  Meyer 
once  asked  me,  if  I  ever  needed  him,  to  let  him  know. 
Tell  him  from  me  I  need  him  now  in  this  one  thing.  Tell 
him  to  lose  no  time." 

Reggie  was  instantly  responsive.  The  situation  was  one 
he  could,  in  a  certain  sense,  thoroughly  enjoy. 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  me,"  he  put  in  reassuringly. 
"  My  interview  with  the  Reverend  can  wait.  I'm  not 
hankering  after  it.  Of  course  Hilda  '11  understand.  I 
shall  call  her  up  by  wire  every  half-hour ;  we've  a  private 
code.'  As  for  this  Dupr6  business,  count  it  done.  I'll 
put  Meyer  on  it  inside  fifteen  minutes.  I  may  see  you 
later,  au  revoir !  " 

He  was  off  in  his  airy  way,  almost  breaking  into  a  run 
along  the  crowded  main  street  as  the  brougham  turned 
down  toward  the  station.  Though  his  cheerfulness  and 
his  ready  help  had  done  much  to  lighten  the  strain  on 
Margaret's  nerves,  it  was  hardly  possible  for  her  to  share 
in  his  enthusiasm  just  then.  The  passing  thought  she 
gave  his  romance  was  tender,  nay,  wistful,  but  it  was  soon 
dismissed.  It  would  be  some  time  yet  before  those  happy 
plans  materialized,  and  in  the  meantime  other  things  were 
demanding  all  her  strength. 


474  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

She  was  very  sure  she  ought  not  to  speak  to  Ashton 
about  this  new  complication,  at  any  rate  not  now.  She 
could  not  possibly  do  so  without  bringing  up  to  him  the 
detestation  in  which  he  was  held  by  a  certain  class,  a 
detestation  none  the  less  real  because  she  believed  it  to 
be  unjust  and  undeserved. 

She  had  enough,  as  it  was,  to  worry  him  with  during 
these  last  few  hours.  The  disappearance  of  the  papers 
would  probably  annoy  him,  the  final  breakdown  of  his 
old  nurse  would  be  a  genuine  grief  to  him,  for  certain 
of  his  old  associations  were  distinctly  sacred  to  Ashton 
Leverson. 

In  showing  a  woman's  sympathy  there  she  might  draw 
closer  to  him,  a  wish  more  omnipresent  with  her  to-night 
than  it  had  ever  been  before,  and  that  was  saying  much. 
To-night  she  clung  to  it  as  if  it  were  her  one  salvation  — 
perhaps  it  was. 

She  made  her  way  on  to  the  wet,  slippery  platform, 
where,  under  the  glare  of  the  electric  lights,  a  motley 
throng  of  incoming  and  outgoing  passengers  elbowed 
each  other  amidst  slow-moving  luggage  vans  and  hurry- 
ing trainmen.  The  air  was  thick  with  smoke  and  cin- 
ders, beaten  down  by  the  rain,  which  now  fell  smartly ; 
the  panting  of  a  locomotive  drowned  all  lesser  sounds. 

She  had  already  caught  sight  of  Ashton  Leverson  de- 
scending from  the  vestibule  of  a  pullman.  He  was  pre- 
ceded by  a  porter  carrying  a  dress-suit  case,  and  was 
followed  by  no  less  a  person  than  the  Rector  of  St. 
Stephen's,  Cuthbert  Faucon,  who  filled  his  proper  place 
in  the  recessional  with  dignity.  She  almost  ran  toward 
them  in  the  eagerness  of  her  welcome.  She  might  have 
said,  with  perfect  honesty,  she  had  never  been  so  glad 
to  greet  her  husband  before. 

"I  got  your  telegram  just  in  time,"  she  was  saying  as 
she  took  his  arm ;  "  but  I  was  delayed,  and  was  afraid  of 


MARGARET  SENDS  A   MESSAGE  475 

being  late.  Why,  Uncle  Cuthbert,  I  had  no  idea  you  had 
been  away.  I  haven't  noticed  the  Rectory  carriage.  Hadn't 
we  better  drive  you  home  ?  there's  plenty  of  room  in  the 
brougham." 

They  were  in  the  waiting  room  now,  and  could  hope 
to  make  themselves  heard,  but  Cuthbert  did  not  seem 
conversationally  inclined.  True,  he  had  come  forward 
to  supplement  Ashton's  greeting,  and  some  warmth  had 
come  into  his  clear-cut  face  as  his  eyes  met  hers,  but  it 
faded  out  again  the  next  moment.  As  for  Ashton,  Cuth- 
bert Faucon  ignored  him  as  completely  as  he  could  do 
without  being  rude  to  Margaret.  He  declined  her  offer 
with  grave  courtesy,  but  with  no  lack  of  decision.  If 
his  own  carriage  was  not  there,  it  would  be  presently ;  he 
would  wait. 

Poor  Margaret  was  far  too  much  preoccupied  to  notice 
his  manner,  nor  that  he  watched  them  rather  furtively  as 
she  and  Leverson  passed  on  through  the  wide  door  to  the 
sidewalk.  She  was,  of  course,  far  from  surmising  what 
was  passing  in  the  Rector's  thoughts. 

As  he  stood  there,  he  would  have  given  anything  short 
of  the  good  of  the  Church  to  have  taken  her  home  with 
him  then.  Perhaps  he  would  have  done  it,  had  he  known 
the  full  force  of  the  storm  which  was  gathering  about 
her ;  but  he  did  not  know,  and  the  responsibility  of  taking 
such  drastic  measures  was  very  grave.  He  had  already 
made  a  great  effort  to  help  her,  tearing  aside  all  barriers 
of  reserve  (a  very  hard  thing  for  Cuthbert  Faucon),  and 
though  he  had  met  with  apparent  failure,  it  might,  after 
all,  lead  to  ultimate  victory.  He  could  at  least  do  noth- 
ing more  without  telling  her  everything.  Had  he  a  right 
to  do  that  yet } 

Meanwhile  Leverson  was  making  himself  extremely  com- 
fortable. The  contrast  between  certain  disagreeable  things 
which  had  happened  lately  and  Margaret's  reception  of 


476  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

him  was  entirely  too  marked  to  escape  perceptions  always 
keen  where  his  personal  comfort  was  concerned.  His 
failure,  as  he  himself  would  have  phrased  it,  to  "  hit  it 
off"  with  Margaret,  had  come  largely  from  his  always 
associating  her  with  a  certain  tacit  criticism  of  himself. 
To-night  these  conditions  seemed  delightfully  reversed. 
He  had  lately  listened,  or  refused  to  Hsten,  to  a  good  deal 
of  criticism  that  had  passed  the  bounds  of  taciturnity,  and 
he  had  arrived  to  find  his  wife  a  haven  of  refuge  from 
envy,  hatred,  and  malice,  and  all  unpleasantness. 

It  seemed  to  him,  as  he  drew  the  heavy  carriage  rug 
over  his  knees  and  settled  himself  for  the  two-mile  drive, 
that  to-night  she  came  nearer  being  in  love  with  him  than 
she  had  ever  been  before.  Even  when  she  communicated 
one  or  two  disquieting  items  of  news,  she  did  it  so  charm- 
ingly that,  if  he  felt  inclined  to  blame  anybody,  it  was  not 
her.  The  reported  exile  of  Jane  Kirk  moved  him  to  senti- 
ment rather  than  resentment.  There  was  genuine  mois- 
ture in  his  eyes  as  he  remarked  :  — 

"Poor  old  giiil!  I've  lost  a  good  friend  in  her,  but  we 
must  make  the  best  of  it.  I'll  run  out  and  see  her  when 
I  get  the  chance.  I  wired  Lindley  to  spare  no  expense  in 
making  her  comfortable.  As  for  that  other  thing,  I  would 
not  worry  about  that,  probably  some  old  waste  paper  out 
of  my  room.  I  don't  see  why  Doniphan  should  suppose 
Jane  had  taken  them ;  don't  even  see  why  Doniphan  was 
there  at  all.     I  thought  he'd  cut  Elmhurst,  like  Faucon." 

"  I  did  not  know  that  either  of  them  had,"  Margaret  said 
in  some  surprise. 

Leverson  laughed.  "  My  dear  girl,  you're  not  observing. 
I  suppose  I  ought  to  qualify  by  saying  generally  it's  me 
rather  than  Elmhurst  they  object  to,  but  it  really  doesn't 
matter  much.  I  suppose  one  can't  make  a  distinct  success 
in  this  world  without  making  some  enemies,  even  among 
the  Clergy." 


MARGARET   SENDS  A   MESSAGE  477 

"  I  don't  think  I  quite  understand." 

She  was  conscious  again  of  that  old  oppression,  as  if 
something  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  were  hanging  over 
her. 

"  Why,  really,  you  must  have  seen  it,"  Leverson  laughed. 
"  I  suppose  I  was  a  trifle  rude,  but  there  are  limits  to 
human  patience.  I  got  rid  of  Doniphan  when  he  insisted 
on  running  my  business  for  me,  and  I  shall  get  rid  of  Fau- 
con  if  he  undertakes  to  run  my  morals.  Of  course,  the 
business  of  the  Clergy  is  to  preach  sermons,  but  they  ought 
to  be  confined  to  pulpits.  I  drew  the  line  when,  some  days 
since,  I  had  a  letter  from  your  much  respected  uncle,  diag- 
nosing my  general  moral  condition  as  extremely  bad.  Well, 
even  that  wasn't  enough.  He  came  on  from  Phillie  this 
afternoon,  from  some  church  sociable,  I  suppose,  and  re- 
newed the  attack  in  the  usual  Sunday-school  style.  As  I 
say,  I  drew  the  line  there  and  settled  him.  Let's  be  grate- 
ful we've  passed  the  period  when  the  Clergy  can  scare  us 
with  goblin  tales  about  eternal  punishment.  I'm  a  good 
Churchman  in  a  reasonable  sort  of  way,  but  I  draw  the 
line  at  personal  dictation  —  by  George,  I  do!" 

She  shrank  back  in  her  comer,  her  mind  busy  with  the 
numberless  constructions  she  might  put  on  Leverson's 
careless  words.  Could  it  be  anything  connected  with 
the  transfer  of  the  Leverson  Works  that  had  roused  the 
Rector's  disapproval }  She  had  reason  enough  to  know 
by  this  time  that  it  was  locally  unpopular.  She  secretly 
hoped  this  might  prove  the  cause,  for  she  had  argued  her- 
self into  the  belief  that  there,  at  least,  Ashton  was  right ; 
yet  the  legal  transfer  of  large  properties  seemed  hardly  to 
justify  the  mention  of  eternal  punishment  by  those  who 
doubted  its  advisability.  In  picturing  the  pavement  of 
hell  one  has,  of  course,  a  certain  latitude  of  choice,  though 
there  are  authorities.  We  have  tried  infant  skulls  and 
not  found  them  wear  remarkably  well.     The  substitution 


478  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

of  the  quivering  spines  of  successful  promoters  is,  however, 
a  distinct  novelty  not  easily  grasped  by  the  female  mind. 

Leverson's  reference  to  his  discomfited  enemies  had,  if 
anything,  raised  his  spirits.  The  mantle  of  his  success 
hung  upon  him  like  a  shining  garment.  He  was  almost 
affectionate  in  his  allusions  to  it. 

"  Just  think  of  it,"  he  was  saying,  as  he  put  one  of  his 
great  hands  on  her  cold  one  where  it  lay  on  the  carriage 
seat,  "just  try  and  realize  that  we're  out  of  this  thing  at 
last.  Looking  back  on  it,  Madge,  I  don't  see  that  the  life 
here's  been  much  better  for  you  than  for  me.  Perhaps  I 
haven't  been  altogether  piggish  in  looking  forward  to 
something  better  than  this  stagnation." 

She  was  all  response  at  once. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said,  "  you  were  quite  right.  I  should 
have  seen  it  sooner." 

Leverson  acknowledged  the  concession  with  a  sigh  of 
gratified  pride. 

"  Of  course,  under  other  circumstances,"  he  went  on, 
"it  might  have  been  bearable.  If  we'd  had  children,  there 
might  have  been  some  future  worth  waiting  for.  You 
would  have  lost  yourself  in  them,  women  always  do,  and 
been  less  exacting.  Oh,  well,  there's  no  use  wasting  sen- 
timent over  it.  I  got  over  that  disappointment  long 
ago,  never  had  any  hard  feeling  about  it  either,  never, 
really." 

It  was  so  evident  that  he  meant  to  be  kindly,  even  in 
his  utter  lack  of  all  finer  feeling,  that  she  fought  down  the 
sob  that  choked  her.  It  was  quite  as  well  he  could  not 
see  the  girl's  face.  It  might  have  interfered  with  this 
little  burst  of  confidence  so  rare  with  him. 

"  Well,  any  way,  we  shan't  vegetate  in  this  hole,  piling 
up  money  for  the  Hawley  Leversons,  after  our  two  candles 
are  both  snuffed  out,"  he  went  on  cheerfully.  "  I've  always 
counted  on  your  outliving  me.     Besides  the  years  between 


MARGARET  SENDS  A   MESSAGE  479 

US,  I  haven't  always  lived  as  carefully  as  I  might.  But  I'll 
take  more  care  of  myself  now  ;  by  George,  it's  worth  it ! " 

(Every  word,  while  it  revealed  to  her  so  nakedly  the 
man's  limitations,  showed  her,  perhaps,  a  kindlier  side  of 
him  than  she  had  ever  seen.) 

"  You  remember  my  telling  you  about  my  will.  Every- 
thing to  you  for  life,  outside  Aunt  Catherine's  settlement,  — 
everything,  quite  unconditionally,  you  understand,  even  if 
you  marry  again,  which  at  your  age  would  be  only  natural." 

The  searching  wind  outside  must  have  touched  her ;  she 
drew  the  rug  closer  about  her.     He  did  not  notice  it. 

"After  you,  of  course,  what's  left  ought  to  go  back  to 
the  name,  though.  Lord  knows,  I  care  little  enough  about 
it !  The  all-important  thing,  Madge,  is  that  we  should 
enjoy  life  while  we've  got  it.  Just  think  of  it !  —  double 
and  treble  what  we've  ever  dreamed  of  having  before.  I 
want  you  to  make  a  name  for  yourself  as  much  as  I  want 
to  make  my  own.  How  in  thunder  could  we  do  it  tied 
hand  and  foot  to  a  place  like  this .''  I  never  yet  went  to 
Europe  for  a  six  months'  run  without  being  called  back 
by  one  of  Whitelaw's  beastly  cables.  Even  in  the  New 
York  clubs  I'm  known  as  the  Pennsylvania  Car  Man. 
Well,.- I'm  going  to  change  that,  and  some  other  things. 
I  haven't  always  been  very  considerate  in  small  things 
about  you, —  I've  been  so  beastly  worried, — but  now 
you'll  see.  I've  spent  no  end  of  time  planning  for  your 
pleasure  this  autumn.  A  month  in  Newport,  and  then 
Scotland !  Oh,  Madge,  girl !  we'll  take  an  entirely  fresh 
hand,  see  if  we  don't !  " 

Though  the  picture  he  had  drawn  for  her  was  a  life  of 
his  own  choosing,  not  hers,  his  desire  to  have  her  share 
in  its  pleasure  touched  her  unspeakably.  Margaret's  face 
was  shining  now.  As  they  passed  a  flaring  street  lamp 
the  light  fell  full  upon  it,  and  he  noticed  how  handsome 
she  was. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE    LEVERSON    DINNER    IS    KEPT    WAITING 

The  master  and  mistress  of  Elmhurst  could  hardly  have 
found  fault  with  its  reception  of  them  that  night.  They 
were  met  in  the  wide  entrance  hall  by  a  staff  of  house 
servants  and  a  bevy  of  dogs,  the  former  smiling,  the  latter 
noisy,  and  neither  of  any  earthly  use  beyond  the  unrecog- 
nized usefulness  of  a  kindly  welcome. 

"  I  brought  'em  in,  sir,"  Morgan  put  in  with  apologetic 
reference  to  the  demonstrative  canines,  "  they  were  that 
restless  wot  with  the  storm  and  your  comin',  sir.  I've 
never  seen  'em  so  restless,  Mrs.  Leverson,  no,  never. 
Don's  been  set  on  gettin'  in  Mr.  Leverson's  study  this  last 
half-hour,  but  I  haven't  opened  it  up  yet.  Miss  Laurie  not 
bein'  down,  and  dinner  bein'  held  back." 

"That's  all  right,"  Leverson  nodded  graciously,  "but 
why  are  they  keeping  it  up  now,  I  should  like  to  know  ? " 

They  were  still  standing  before  the  hall  fireplace,  where 
the  crackling  wood  fire  was  not  unpleasant,  after  taking 
off  wet  wraps;  but  Leverson's  attention  was  still  centred 
on  the  dogs.  Don,  his  muzzle  lowered  to  the  threshold, 
was  scratching  vigorously  at  the  closed  door  of  the  study 
to  an  accompaniment  of  low  whines.  Two  terriers  and  a 
collie  were  following  this  exhibition  with  absorbed  interest, 
occasionally  venting  their  suppressed  excitement  in  short, 
sharp  barks. 

"  Odd,  isn't  it } "  Leverson  went  on,  with  increasing 
interest.     "  Must   have   scented   something.     Always  are 

480 


THE  LEVERSON  DINNER   IS   KEFr  WAITING  48 1 

scenting  something,  —  cats,  most  likely.  Anyway,  we'll 
see." 

He  had  to  push  the  dogs  aside  and  quiet  them  with  a 
cuff  or  two  before  he  could  reach  the  door.  Morgan  had 
picked  up  a  reading  lamp  from  a  side  table,  prepared  to 
follow,  but  Margaret  had  drawn  back  without  quite  know- 
ing why.  The  heavy  door  had  resisted,  for  an  instant,  the 
pressure  of  Leverson's  heavy  hand ;  it  must  have  stuck 
slightly  at  the  bottom,  for  it  gave  first  above  the  middle, 
then  burst  suddenly  wide  open,  letting  out  a  perfect  gale 
of  wind  which  swept  past  them  into  the  hall,  lifting  the 
draperies  of  the  door  opposite,  and  making  the  lamp 
carried  by  Morgan  flare  dangerously. 

The  snarling  collie  had  sprung  past  Leverson  into  the 
room,  but  the  rest  of  the  dogs  still  held  back.  Even 
Don  waited  orders  before  doing  anything  rash.  He  was 
looking  back  inquiringly  at  Margaret,  who  was  leaning 
slightly  forward,  intense  expectation  in  her  face. 

"  What  fool  left  that  window  open  !  "  she  heard  her  hus- 
band exclaim  angrily,  and  a  moment  later  he  had  followed 
the  collie  through  the  doorway  and  a  casement  banged  to. 
"  Bring  your  light,  will  you.?  —  the  room's  soaking  !  " 

Margaret  had  never,  perhaps,  heard  Leverson's  voice  to 
find  it  more  reassuring.  A  moment  before  she  had  found 
herself  possessed  by  the  horrible  fancy  that  he  could  not 
enter  the  room  and  live,  and  yet  she  felt  herself  powerless 
to  prevent  him.  She  followed  now  closely  behind  Morgan, 
who  had  entered  with  the  light  and  many  stammered 
apologies.  They  were,  however,  cut  short  by  a  cry  of 
terror  from  his  mistress,  yet  not  a  terror  which  bereft 
her  of  the  power  of  action.  She  had,  as  she  entered, 
seized  the  collar  of  the  struggling  dog,  and  was  holding  it 
now  by  main  force  from  springing  upon  the  figure  of 
a   woman   crouching   on   the   hearth   beside   the    fireless 


grate. 


zi 


482  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

She  had  recognized  the  figure  even  before  it  rose  and 
faced  her.  It  was  one  of  those  moments  when  the  first 
quick  impress  of  a  strong  personahty  carries  with  it  the  in- 
stant recall  of  many  previous  impressions,  all  fraught  with 
the  same  meaning.  The  note  struck  vibrates  in  unison 
with  other  chords  farther  back  in  memory,  each  strength- 
ening the  other.  Margaret's  shrinking  dislike  of  Louise 
Dupre  as  she  had  seen  her  months  before  at  the  Raggles's 
cottage,  all  she  had  learned  of  her  since,  down  to  the  girl's 
threat  or  warning  two  hours  before,  swept  through  her 
mind  at  the  moment  when  she  was  straining  every  muscle 
to  hold  the  dog.  Louise  Dupre  had  come  very  near  the 
truth  when  she  had  styled  her  visit  a  matter  of  life  and 
death.     It  was,  —  for  her. 

Ashton  Leverson's  mind  was  not,  perhaps,  overrapid, 
but  his  temper  was.  Margaret's  cry  had  centred  his  atten- 
tion on  the  dog  trying  to  get  at  something,  he  knew  not 
what,  biit  that  was  quite  enough.  His  instinct  of  disci- 
pline, of  very  rigorous  discipline,  was  even  stronger  than 
his  fear  for  his  wife.  His  great  hand  closed,  not  on  the 
dog's  collar,  but  on  its  throat.  He  lifted  it  as  easily  as  if 
it  had  been  a  kitten.  Its  sharp  yelp  of  pain  was  stifled  to  a 
gurgle  as  he  flung  it  from  him  out  through  the  open  door 
into  the  cowed  pack  outside. 

His  heavy  cheeks  were  purple  with  rage,  even  the  hand- 
some brown  eyes  were  slightly  bloodshot.  There  was,  for 
the  moment,  something  horribly  animal  about  him,  but 
not  the  kind  of  animal  that  knows  fear.  Doniphan  had 
been  something  more  than  carelessly  satirical  in  mentally 
cataloguing  Leverson  as  "  The  King  of  Beasts." 

He  looked  it  now  as  he  addressed  the  quaking  Morgan. 

"  Get  out,  will  you,  and  shut  that  door."  The  heavy 
finger  which  pointed  at  it  shook  slightly.  "  I'll  see  you  to- 
morrow about  bringing  kennel  dogs  into  the  house,  or,  —  " 
and  he  glanced  now  for  the  first  time  at  the  figure  on  the 


THE   LEVERSON   DINNER   IS  KEPT  WAITING  483 

hearth,  "  or  mendicant  mill  hands  into  my  private  study 
either,  by  Jove !  " 

"She  must  have  got  in  by  the  window,  sir,  she  must 
really,"  Morgan  began  humbly  ;  but  a  smothered  exclama- 
tion from  his  master  cut  him  short,  and  he  fled  expeditiously, 
closing  the  door  behind  him  with  more  noise  than  usual. 

Louise  Dupr6  had  risen  now  and  stood  there  on  the 
hearth,  facing  them.  She  had  maintained  absolute  silence, 
though  her  eyes,  following  Leverson's  every  moment, 
showed  she  was  listening. 

"You'd  better  go  too,  Madge,"  Leverson  went  on,  a 
marked  change  in  his  tone  when  he  addressed  her.  "  The 
room's  damp  as  a  marsh,  and  cold.  I'll  have  a  fire  after 
dinner." 

The  girl  by  the  mantelpiece  shifted  her  weight  from 
one  hip  to  the  other,  and  glanced  down,  as  Leverson  made 
this  reference,  at  the  basket  grate  below.  Her  face  before 
had  been  simply  attentive ;  now  it  brightened  all  at  once. 
A  curious  smile,  either  amusement  or  satisfaction,  warmed 
it,  if  only  for  a  moment.  Perhaps,  being  thinly  clad,  and 
drenched  in  her  two  miles'  walk  from  Brockton,  the  mere 
suggestion  of  fire  was  inspiriting.  The  materials  for  one 
were  already  laid  in  the  basket  grate  —  half  a  dozen  pieces 
of  cannel  coal  on  a  small  bundle  of  sticks  and  shavings. 
It  only  required  a  match  to  set  it  into  a  bright  blaze. 

Margaret  moved,  not  toward  the  door,  but  toward  her 
husband.  She  felt  bound  to  tell  him  what  she  knew 
about  the  girl,  though  she  was  far  from  any  sense  of  the 
danger  in  which  he  stood.  Leverson  at  the  moment  did 
not  look  as  if  he  required  protection.  She  spoke  in  a 
voice  intended  for  his  ear  alone,  but  she  was  nervous  from 
the  strain  of  the  last  few  moments,  and  spoke  hurriedly, 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  that  unfortunate  man  Dupr6. 
They  both  seem  possessed  by  a  singular  inexplicable 
hatred   toward  you.     I    met   her  earlier  in  the   evening, 


484  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

on  the  Brockton  road ;  she  was  full  then  of  incoherent 
threats.  I  feared  for  her  reason  and  sent  Reggie  with  a 
message  to  the  Preacher  Meyer.  But  they  would  not 
think  of  coming  here.  Had  I  not  better  telephone  to 
Brockton,  to  Dr.  Lindley .? " 

Leverson  was  perfectly  cool  now,  for  his  interests,  as  he 
saw  them,  required  it.  His  sole  object  was  to  get  Mar- 
garet out  of  the  room  without  a  scene.  He  disliked  dis- 
agreeable revelations,  but  he  disliked  the  scenes  which 
invariably  followed  them  still  more. 

"  Do  nothing,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  until  you  hear  from 
me.  I  can't  have  her  here,  whatever  she  is  or  wants ; 
meanwhile  she's  not  fit  company  for  you.     Go,  please." 

Margaret  made  a  little  gesture  of  assent. 

"  Do  be  careful,  and  if  you  can,  be  kind,"  she  whispered, 
as  she  turned  to  leave  him. 

Louise  Dupr6  broke  into  a  loud,  mirthless  laugh. 

"  Don't  go !  "  she  cried  mockingly.  "  There's  been  one 
crazy  woman  took  away  from  Elmhurst  already  ;  that's 
enough  for  one  day,  ain't  it  ?  Like  as  not  she  had  suthin' 
agin  him  it  wouldn't  do  ter  tell.  An'  now  her  mouth's 
shut,  ain't  it  .■•  Well,  mine  ain't,  not  yet !  No  !  by  the  ven- 
geance of  God,  not  yet !  " 

Margaret  had  paused  with  her  hand  on  the  door  as  if 
held  there.  She  was  looking  fixedly  at  Louise  Dupr6, 
whose  words,  wild  as  they  were,  had  too  much  fixed  pur- 
pose in  them  for  madness.  There  was  no  touch  of  re- 
proach in  Margaret's  eyes,  only  a  look  of  startled  inquiry. 
It  was  clear  the  other  woman  accused  Leverson  of  some- 
thing—  of  what? 

"  You'd  better  go,"  Leverson  repeated,  this  time  with 
just  a  suggestion  of  impatience.  The  situation  was  get- 
ting urgent.  It  was  hard  to  remain  quite  tranquil.  The 
two  women  still  regarded  one  another.  The  hot  flush  of 
anger  had  died  out  of  Louise  Dupr6  face  under  Margaret's 


THE   LEVERSON   DINNER   IS   KEPT  WAITING  485 

Steady  gaze ;  some  sense  of  compunction  seemed  stirring 
in  her. 

"  I  did  my  best  to  keep  her  away  to-night,  —  ask  her  if 
I  didn't,"  she  said  sulkily.  "  Cos  she's  a  lady,  that's  why. 
But  I  don't  care  now,  —  not  if  her  bein'  here'll  make  him 
suffer  any  more.  Not  more'n  two  hours  ago  I  said  I 
wouldn't  take  her  place,  and  I  meant  it  too,  I  did.  After 
all,  I'm  free,  but  she's  tied  to  him  for  Ufe.  O  Mother  of 
God  !     For  life !  " 

All  power  of  movement,  save  the  movement  of  a  piti- 
lessly active  brain,  had  left  Margaret  now.  Leverson  had 
turned  toward  the  woman  by  the  fireplace.  He  was  ashy 
pale.  For  an  instant  it  looked  as  if  he  would  strike  her 
down,  but  she  went  on,  not  even  deigning  a  glance  at  him. 

"  Yes,  he's  had  his  will  with  her  as  he  has  wid  every- 
thin'  else  he's  touched,  just  because  he's  that  masterful 
he'd  have  it  whatever  come.  Did  he  ever  care  for  man, 
woman,  or  child,  if  he  got  his  way  easier  by  not  carin'  ? 
Did  he  even  take  the  trouble  to  pretend  he  cared  ?  Not 
he  !  Did  he  ever  tell  Louise  Dupr6  he  loved  her  as  some 
of  'em  would.  Not  once !  She  was  only  wanted  —  she 
was,  —  an'  what  he  wants  he  snatches  !  " 

She  still  addressed  Margaret,  who  had  shrunk  back  into 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  Her  eyes  were  not  on 
the  girl,  but  on  her  husband,  in  a  fixed,  stony  stare.  One 
glance  at  her  told  Leverson  that  he  had  got  to  play  this 
game  carefully  or  throw  up  his  hand.  Women  like  Mar- 
garet had  prejudices  which  had  got  to  be  taken  into 
account.  Hard  lines,  to-night  of  all  nights !  It  had  oc- 
curred to  him  (and  beyond  that  he  had  no  great  sense  of 
responsibility)  that  he  had  not  been  quite  square  with 
Margaret,  and  just  now  it  looked  as  if  his  chances  of  being 
so  were  slipping  away  from  him. 

He  was,  as  Louise  Dupr6  talked  on,  running  over  in 
his  mind  what  he  should  do.     Lying  never  for  a  moment 


486  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

occurred  to  him.  Lying  presupposes  a  condition  of  moral 
cowardice,  and  he  was  not  yet  sufficiently  cowed.  He  was 
not  conscious  of  having  done  anything  very  much  out  of 
the  way,  only  something  which  required  delicate  explana- 
tion, a  gift  of  tongue  he  was  not  quite  sure  he  possessed. 
It  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  he  could  talk  very  much 
better  if  he  smoked.  He  drew  out  a  cigar,  and,  walking 
deliberately  over  to  his  study  table,  struck  a  match. 

"  I  think  on  your  own  account  you'll  find  it  safer  to  go 
now,"  he  remarked,  glancing  toward  the  fireplace  as  he 
blew  out  a  mouthful  of  smoke.  "  You've  risked  a  good 
deal  in  coming  here  to-night.  You've  been  wanted  for 
some  time  past  by  the  Brockton  police.  It's  been  rumored 
that  that  attack  on  young  Thallon  was  intended  for  me. 
Your  actions  to-night  rather  carry  out  that  theory.  An- 
toine  Dupre  may  have  struck  the  blow,  but  it  looks  very 
much  as  if  some  one  else  put  him  up  to  it.  I'm  willing  to 
give  you  half  an  hour's  start  if  you  go  now,  because  I  dis- 
like being  mixed  up  in  that  kind  of  thing.  If  you  don't 
go  now,  you'll  not  go  at  all  without  proper  escort." 

He  had  spoken  slowly,  still  bolding  the  flaring  match  in 
his  hand,  and  as  he  finished  he  tossed  it  carelessly  toward 
the  grate.  The  action  seemed  to  have  more  effect  upon 
the  girl  than  what  he  said.  Her  eyes  never  left  the  little 
bit  of  burning  wood  as  it  made  its  tiny  arc  of  fire  through 
the  air,  and  by  a  quick,  dexterous  movement,  she  caught  it 
just  above  the  little  pile  of  shavings,  —  caught  it  in  her 
naked  hand  and  crushed  it  out. 

"  He  can't  have  his  fire  yet  till  I'm  gone,"  she  said,  with 
a  coarse  laugh;  "an'  I'm  most  gone  now,  for  my  work's 
most  done.  Yes,  I  know  I've  only  got  what  I  deserves,  but 
that  can't  keep  me  from  sharin'  it  with  him.  My  life's 
been  short  enough,  but  it's  been  lively,  anyway  !  I've 
been  locked  out  many  a  night  like  this,  when  it  was  either 
stay  out  and  die  or  take  shelter  where  I  could,  an'  I  took 


THE   LEVERSON  DINNER   IS   KEFF   WAITING  487 

it.  It's  the  old  story  agin  to-night.  To  be  given  half  an 
hour's  start !  O  gracious  Heaven,  half  an  hour's  start, 
and  no  questions  asked  —  by  him  !  " 

She  had  turned  upon  them  a  defiant  face,  flushed  and 
scornful,  holding  both  her  listeners  by  the  power  of  her 
brilliant  black  eyes  as  she  went  on  mockingly :  — 

"  Oh,  yes !  he'll  have  his  fire,  his  cosey  fire,  all  by  him- 
self. Oh,  yes  !  for  Madam  will  not  share  it  with  him 
to-night,  not  she.  An'  he  shall  set  by  it  an'  enjoy  it  all 
alone.  Light  it  with  his  own  hand,  that  no  one  may  take 
away  the  pleasure  of  it.  Oh,  yes  !  Louise  Dupr^  is  goin' 
—  she  can  keep  warm  outside,  always  movin'  —  yes,  keep 
warm  always  movin'  — with  her  half-hour's  start.  Yes, 
always  movin'.     Good  night!" 

The  mention  of  the  fire  had  touched  some  old  chord  of 
remembrance  in  the  girl's  mind.  In  the  last  two  sentences 
she  had  broken  into  a  passionate  patois,  neither  French 
nor  English,  and  well-nigh  unintelligible.  Very  likely  the 
Dupre  family  had  been  wont  to  gather  about  their  own 
hearthstone  on  such  nights  as  this,  when  things  had  gone 
better  with  them,  years  before.  Anyway,  she  knew  what 
it  meant. 

She  Jiad  walked  over  to  the  low  French  window  and  her 
last  words  were  said  in  kind  of  mock  benediction,  standing 
by  it  with  arm  outstretched.  Then  a  moment,  and  she 
had  flung  it  wide  open  and  disappeared  into  the  darkness 
of  the  night. 

Leverson  swung  it  to  after  her  against  the  inrush  of 
wind  and  rain.  When  he  turned  back  into  the  room  his 
wife's  eyes  were  still  on  him.  Even  he  quailed  a  little 
before  them. 

"  It  h  true,"  she  said,  in  a  strangely  even  voice,  though 
so  low  that  he  could  not  have  caught  the  words  had  the 
tone  been  less  clear,  less  cuttingly  clear. 

"  What's  true } "  he  demanded,  reddening. 


488  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

She  paid  no  attention  to  his  interruption.  She  seemed, 
indeed,  speaking  more  to  herself  than  to  him.  How  could 
he  tell  the  immense  scope  of  the  temptation  which  yawned 
beneath  the  girl's  feet.  Even  when  she  went  on  he  did 
not  understand. 

"  All  true.  I  saw  it  in  his  face  when  she  told  her  story. 
And  she  twitted  me  with  being  tied  to  him  for  life !  And 
if  I  were  not,  would  it  be  worse  or  better  ?  O  my  God ! 
my  God  !  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  ?" 

The  cigar  dropped  from  Leverson's  hand  and  fell  upon 
the  soaked  carpet  at  his  feet  with  a  little  hissing  sound. 
There  was  something  in  the  strained  tension  of  her  voice, 
the  low  cry  of  tearless  agony,  that  awed  him  even  while  he 
could  not  comprehend  it.  He  took  a  step  toward  her,  his 
hand  outstretched. 

"  Oh,  come,  I  say,  Madge  !  Don't  take  it  in  that  way," 
he  said  earnestly.  "  I  knew  it  was  an  outrage  that  this 
thing  should  have  happened  as  it  has,  but  I  thought  I 
guarded  against  it  in  every  way.  I'd  settled  the  girl  away 
from  Brockton,  I  —  " 

There  was  real  pleading  in  his  voice,  but  it  had  no  more 
effect  upon  her  than  if  he  had  spoken  an  unknown  tongue. 
It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  if  it  were  so,  used  by  him  to 
her,  it  was  his  own  fault.  He  had  almost  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  arm,  but  she  shrunk  back  from  him  and  waved 
him  off  with  a  gesture  he  could  hardly  disobey. 

"  I  am  not  finding  fault  with  your  ill  success  in  hiding 
crime;  I  have  never  blamed  you  for  being  stupid,"  she 
said,  regarding  him  from  under  lowered  lids,  her  head 
thrown  a  little  back,  the  hand  she  still  held  between  her- 
self and  him  palm  outward.  "  Being  true,  it  is  better  I 
should  know,  despite  the  degradation  ;  much  better." 

He  had  opened  his  mouth  to  speak,  perhaps  in  angry 
protest,  when  his  ear  caught  Morgan's  low  knock  on  the 
hall  door.     All  at  once  it  came  to  him  how  important  it  was 


THE  LEVERSON  DINNER  IS  KEPT  WAITING  4S9 

that  his  thickening  domestic  difficulties  should  not  get 
beyond  these  four  walls.  Leverson  was  not,  as  a  rule,  so 
particular ;  but  there  was  an  element  of  gravity  in  the  pres- 
ent situation  that  was  growing  upon  him  rapidly.  There 
was  something  very  odd  about  Margaret's  face  as  he  passed 
her  to  go  to  the  door.  Her  eyes  were  half  closed,  her  lips 
were  moving.  Had  she  been  much  given  to  religion  these 
late  years  he  might  have  thought  she  was  praying. 

"Yes,  I  know,"  he  responded,  to  Morgan's  respectful 
announcement  of  dinner.  "I'll  be  in  presently;  but  Mrs. 
Leverson's  a  bit  upset  by  that  infernal  woman  (who's  gone 
now)  and  the  dog.  She'll  dine  in  her  room  later.  You 
may  send  Alice  there  now." 

Leverson  had  apparently  forgotten  his  late  resentment 
against  the  delinquent  Morgan.  Perhaps  the  present  did 
not  appear  a  propitious  moment  for  domestic  discipline. 
There  are  periods  when  the  omnipresent  servant  has  to  be 
carefully  handled.  A  realization  of  this  important  fact  had 
just  entered  Leverson's  head  for  the  first  time  in  his  life. 

He  closed  the  door  without  banging  it  and  turned  back 
into  the  room,  facing  her.  She  stood  in  precisely  the 
same  spot,  and  her  eyes  had  seemingly  never  left  him. 

"  I  think  you'll  see  this  in  a  better  light  presently,"  he 
remarked,  in  some  embarrassment,  as  she  did  not  speak. 
"  You've  got  to  make  allowance  for  a  girl's  hysterics,  not 
to  mention  the  gross  exaggeration  peculiar  to  her  class. 
Any  slip  I've  made  I  did  my  best  to  atone  for.  The  girl 
was  perfectly  safe.  No  one  but  that  cracked-brained 
Preacher  knows  anything ;  even  her  father  struck  in  the 
dark." 

All  at  once  the  fire  of  intense  anger  leaped  into  the 
woman's  eyes,  for  they  were  no  longer —  never  would  be 
again  —  the  eyes  of  a  girl. 

"Why  trouble  yourself  to  lie  about  it,"  she  said,  with 
infinite  scorn.     "  Her  father  did  not  try  to  murder  you, 


490  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

but  a  man  who  jeopardized  his  own  reputation  to  shield 
yours." 

"  Thallon  ?  Nonsense  !  He  never  knew,"  Leverson 
put  in  increduously.  "Why,  long  before  he  came  here 
I  —  " 

"  Hush  !  "  she  cried  imperiously.  "  Spare  me  details. 
That,  at  least,  I'm  not  called  on  to  bear.  I  do  not  judge 
you,  I  only  shield  myself.  But  I  must  —  must  at  any  cost 
—  speak  of  the  future.      You  once  offered  to  set  me  free." 

He  looked  at  her  in  undisguised  astonishment. 

"Well,  hardly  that,"  he  returned,  something  very  like 
amusement  in  his  voice.  "  I  suggested  a  separate  estab- 
lishment and  a  settlement.  Even  were  I  still  of  the  same 
mind,  that  would  not  mean  entire  freedom  —  for  you.  As 
for  the  settlement  —  " 

"  Do  not  go  into  that !  I  had  no  idea  at  the  time  of 
taking  money  from  you,  surely  none  now.  I  only  ask  for 
light — air  —  the  right  to  breathe  —  the  right  to  moral 
cleanliness.  I  ask  you  now,  would  you,  could  you,  deny 
that  right  ? " 

Leverson's  face  was  flushed  at  last  with  something 
besides  embarrassment.  So  far  he  had  been,  as  he  told 
himself,  marvellously  patient,  for  it  was  clearly  to  be  seen 
the  woman  he  dealt  with  had  reached  the  dividing  line 
where  blind  impulse  usurps  the  place  of  reason.  That  her 
keenest  suffering  came  from  a  struggle  within  herself  he 
had  no  means  of  knowing.  He  only  knew  she  was  saying 
very  disagreeable  things,  —  unaccustomed  things,  —  which 
roused  his  anger,  even  when  he  wanted  to  be  most  patient. 

"  If  you  mean  a  court  of  law  would  cut  me  adrift  from 
you,  I  dare  say  you  may  be  right,"  he  said,  with  some  ap- 
proach to  his  old  sneer,  "  but  before  you  take  a  step  like 
that  I  advise  you  to  think.  If  the  only  world  you  cared 
for  were  the  gay  one  you've  had  a  look  at  once  or  twice 
through  me,  the  thing  would  be  different.     I  admit  frankly 


THE   LEVEKSON   DINNER    IS   KEPT  WAITING  491 

you  could  force  a  settlement,  and  that  in  their  eyes  would 
be  the  main  thing.  But  in  the  world  you  care  about  the 
thing's  quite  different.  You'd  lose  caste.  I  needn't  men- 
tion the  Faucons  or  Doniphan.  As  for  the  Colonel,  you'll 
hardly  induce  him  to  quarrel  with  me  at  this  juncture  for 
the  sake  of  seeing  his  daughter  figure  in  a  divorce  suit. 
Why,  Madge,  girl !  the  idea's  absurd !  You  couldn't  be 
crazy  enough  to  let  a  piece  of  indiscretion  like  this  of  mine 
(for  which,  Heaven  knows,  I'm  sorry  enough)  grow  into  a 
noisome  scandal,  ruining  both  our  lives.  You  simply  don't 
know  what  you're  talking  about.  Think  of  the  publicity, 
think  of  the  newspapers  gloating  over  everything.  You 
ask  me  to  spare  you  details.  Do  you  think  they  will  ?  Oh, 
come,  Madge !  Don't  let's  make  fools  of  ourselves  at  the 
very  moment  when  we've  got  the  world  to  choose  from. 
As  I  said  a  little  while  back,  let's  start  fresh." 

Never  before  had  he  made  such  an  appeal  to  her. 
Weeks  ago,  when  in  this  same  room  they  had  met  this 
same  question,  it  had  been  from  opposite  sides.  Then  s/ie 
had  been  the  one  to  plead  one  more  trial  of  their  married 
life.  There  was  no  denying  it,  in  these  last  few  weeks 
Leverson's  views  and  feelings  about  his  wife  had  softened 
wonderfully.  Success  had,  somehow,  made  her  more  valu- 
able to  him.  He  was  not  going  to  give  her  up  now  on  the 
demand  of  a  pursuing  Nemesis  in  exchange  for  a  load  of 
slime.  Men  like  Leverson  are  necessarily  fastidious.  They 
touch  the  gutter  only  with  carefully  shod  feet.  When  they 
tire  of  it  the  exit  is  always  open. 

But  was  his  old  relationship  with  Margaret  still  open  ? 
He  might  come  back  to  any  life  he  chose,  but  would  he 
find  her  waiting  for  him  in  quite  the  old  way  ?  He  was 
frank  enough  to  admit  that  she  did  not  look  it,  as  she  stood 
there,  holding  her  skirts  about  her  as  if  she  still  feared 
the  contamination  of  his  touch,  though  he  had  not  again 
approached  her. 


492  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  do  not  require  either  excuses  or  explanations,"  she 
said,  her  voice  hard,  rigid  beyond  recognition.  "  You  need 
offer  none  for  being  what  you  are,  as  I  offer  none  for  being 
what  I  am.  Only  one  thing  is  perfectly  clear  to  me  to- 
night. I  have  no  power  to  lift  you  out  of  the  life  you  have 
chosen.  You  have  every  power  to  drag  me  down  into  it. 
On  the  edge  of  it  I  use  what  strength  remains  to  me  to 
resist.  If  resistance  brings  down  the  comments  of  the 
world,  —  any  world,  —  it  seems  to  me  to  matter  very  little. 
Such  comment  will  not,  cannot,  reveal  half  the  truth. 
They  may  say  I  married  you  for  the  Leverson  money, 
that  I  never  loved  you  and  have  never  in  my  heart  been 
faithful  to  you.  Well !  in  a  sense  all  that  is  true,  fright- 
fully true !  Don't  misunderstand.  I  was  not  a  mere  mer- 
cenary. In  the  coarser  sense  I  did  not  marry  you  for  the 
money,  but  because  I  believed  you  possessed  of  a  power 
for  great  good  and  because  I  believed  you  were  using  it. 
Looking  back  upon  it  now,  I  see  there  was  nothing  per- 
sonal in  my  feeling  for  you,  one  way  or  the  other,  even  at 
first.  You  pleased  me  then  because  you  stood  for  some- 
thing good,  just  as  you  disgust  me  now  because  you  stand 
for  something  evil.  But  I  am  no  more  moved  by  the  one 
than  I  was  by  the  other.  Whether  nobly  generous  or 
brutally  selfish,  I  see  now  I  could  never  have  cared  for  you. 
Good  or  bad,  you  have  never  been  anything  to  me,  are 
nothing  to  me  now,  never  can  be  anything." 

She  gave  him  no  chance  for  a  reply,  even  had  he  dared 
one.  For  once  he  stood  before  her  helpless  as  she  swept 
past  him  out  of  the  room. 

"  I've  got  to  give  her  time,"  he  muttered.  "  She's  got  an 
everlasting  fund  of  common  sense,  I'll  order  dinner  sent 
to  her  room.     She'll  see  me  by  to-morrow," 

He  looked  moodily  at  the  fireless  grate  below  him. 
Louise  Dupr6's  prophecy  seemed  to  be  coming  true.  He 
seemed  fated  to  enjoy  his  study  fire  alone  to-night.     "  I'll 


THE   LEVERSON   DINNER   IS   KEPT  WAITING  493 

light  it  now,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  must  have  taken 
cold;  I'm  chilled  through!" 

He  had  straightened  himself  to  get  a  match  from  the 
shelf  above  when  he  heard  Morgan  at  the  door  again. 
The  interruption  annoyed  him,  though  considering  the 
circumstances  it  was  natural  enough. 

"  Come  in  !  "  he  called  out  impatiently  ;  "  what  in  thun- 
der do  you  want  now  ? " 

"  A  gentleman,  sir,  —  Mr.  Thallon,  in  fact,"  came  in 
Morgan's  respectful  undertone.  "  He  says  it's  important 
he  should  see  you  at  once.  He's  waiting  now  in  the  draw- 
ing-room." 

Leverson  with  some  difficulty  suppressed  the  exclama- 
tion that  rose  to  his  lips.  He  had  already  struck  the 
match  and  watched  it  burn  slowly  in  his  fingers  before  he 
answered.  All  at  once  some  new  trend  of  thought  seemed 
to  occur  to  him.  He  crushed  out  the  dying  spark  between 
his  fingers  as  he  said  :  "  Well,  show  him  in.  Keep  dinner 
waiting,  and  set  places  for  two.  I  may  find  some  use  for 
him." 

The  last  remark  was  not  addressed  to  Morgan,  who  had 
already  gone.  It  had  a  good  deal  to  do,  however,  with  the 
look  of  pleased  expectation  with  which  Leverson  regarded 
the  half-open  door.  A  familiar  step,  brisk  and  resolute, 
was  already  crossing  the  hall. 

"  Yes,  in  this  detestable  tangle  I  may  find  some  use 
for  him,"  Leverson  thought. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 


LEVERSON  S    LIMIT 


"  Mrs.  Leverson  told  me  you  were  coming  to-night," 
Ashton  remarked,  without  leaving  his  place  on  the  hearth. 
"  And  I  was  rather  glad  too.  I  shall  be  awfully  rushed 
to-morrow." 

His  tone  was  perfectly  friendly,  though  it  marked,  as  it 
always  had,  what  he  considered  the  social  difference  be- 
tween himself  and  his  Secretary.  Ashton  Leverson  could 
maintain  that  distinction  even  when  most  confidential. 

Owen  Thallon  had  closed  the  door  behind  him,  but  still 
stood  with  his  hand  on  the  knob.  He  had  not  removed 
his  long  rain  coat,  which,  unfastened  in  front,  hung  loosely 
from  the  shoulders,  revealing,  as  it  swung  back,  an  arm  still 
in  a  sling.  This  and  the  bandaged  head  reminded  Lever- 
son of  the  last  time  he  had  seen  him,  that  night  at  the  hos- 
pital. Otherwise  he  might  have  forgotten  it,  Thallon  was 
so  very  much  what  he  had  always  been.  His  eyes  had 
a  curious  alertness  in  them,  and  his  manner,  even  before 
he  spoke,  was  the  same  manner  which  had  often  chafed 
Leverson  without  definite  reason. 

"  I  thought  I'd  better  see  you  to-night,"  he  returned, 
smiling  an  odd  sort  of  smile.  '*  The  time  is  short,  and  the 
matters  between  us  of  some  importance,  —  to  me  at  least." 

"  Yes,  I  know,  about  the  work.  Well,  we'll  get  at  that 
presently,  though  it's  been  rather  driven  out  of  my  mind 
by  less  pleasant  things.  Throw  aside  your  coat.  If  you 
like  I'll  order  dinner  in  here,  where  we  can  talk." 

494 


LEVERSON'S   LIMIT  495 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  I  dined,  in  a  way,  some  three 
hours  ago." 

"  Not  really !  I  seem  fated  to  feed  in  solitude.  Mrs. 
Leverson's  deserted  me  for  her  own  rooms, — complained 
of  feeling  seedy  ;  I  imagine  she's  been  overdoing.  Women 
always  overdo ;  they  make  so  much  of  little  things." 

Thallon  looked  at  him  with  a  perceptible  increase  of 
interest. 

"  Men  make  little  of  some  rather  large  things,  some- 
times, don't  you  think  ? "  he  asked  quietly.  "  Depends,  I 
suppose,  largely  on  the  point  of  view.  To  me  being 
knocked  on  the  head  by  Antoine  Dupre  seemed  a  matter 
of  some  importance.  To  the  man  for  whom  I  acted  as 
proxy,  I  suppose  the  affair  seemed  trivial." 

Leverson  started  to  laugh,  but  paused  rather  abruptly 
as  his  wife's  late  reference  to  this  same  episode  came  back 
to  him.  If  her  assertion  was  true,  this  matter  required 
thought,  and  thought  with  Leverson  excluded  humor. 

"  Really,  now,  you  ought  not  to  lay  this  up  against  me," 
he  began  carelessly.  "  I  never  asked  you  to  take  the  part, 
you  know ;  and  even  if  I  had,  neither  you  nor  I  could  have 
foreseen  what  it  included.  I  don't  wish  to  appear  un- 
grateful, but  —  frankly,  now  —  you  never  put  yourself  into 
Dupr^'s  black  books  on  my  account." 

Thallon  looked  at  his  employer  with  a  suggestion  of 
sinister  humor  in  the  set  of  his  mouth. 

"  Make  your  mind  quite  easy  there,"  he  said  reassur- 
ingly, "  not  at  all  on  your  account." 

"  I  was  sure  of  it,"  Leverson  put  in,  quite  relieved. 
"  Nevertheless,  through  your  connection  with  me  you  took 
some  risks ;  and,  by  Jove !  I'm  not  the  man  to  forget  it. 
Let's  thank  our  stars  we're  through  with  the  whole  mud- 
dle, and  none  too  soon,  either.  I  heard  in  Harrisburg  this 
afternoon  that  the  Amalgamated  is  going  to  swallow  up 
all  the  local  Unions.     It's  interesting,  if  true.     Doniphan 


496  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

and  that  street-preaching  fellow  will  find  their  employment 
gone.     Rich,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Thallon,  if  he  enjoyed  the  richness  of  the  situation, 
failed  to  show  it.  He  relapsed  into  silence,  his  mind  go- 
ing back  to  the  Doctor  and  Doniphan.  If  this  were  true, 
they  were  fighting  a  losing  game,  and  he  could  by  a  word 
throw  it  all  their  way ;  for  by  a  word  he  could  take  the 
Leverson  Works  out  of  the  controversy.  He  owed  them 
both  much,  and  he  was  at  the  moment  almost  painfully 
conscious  of  it ;  but  he  did  not  waver.  He  threw  aside 
Doniphan's  ambition  as  he  had  thrown  aside  his  own,  with- 
out a  second  thought. 

"  You  feel  you've  earned  a  respite,"  he  remarked  with 
a  delicacy  of  appreciation  which  to  a  more  acute  observer 
might  have  seemed  a  trifle  overdone.  "  A  week  ago  you 
were  in  the  midst  of  battle ;  naturally,  you  would  like  to 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  a  glorious  victory." 

Leverson's  face  brightened  wonderfully. 

"That's  just  it,"  he  acquiesced  eagerly.  "No  one 
knows  better  than  you  do  what  I've  been  working  for; 
but  after  all  it  comes  to  the  same  thing.  I  only  wanted 
an  independence,  so  I  might  live  comfortably  and  in  peace. 
My  happiness  may  be  built  on  money,  but,  great  heavens ! 
it's  not  the  money  itself  I  care  about.  I  speak  freely  with 
you,  of  course.  I've  taken  you  in  behind  the  scenes  as 
I've  never  taken  any  one  else  before.  In  the  first  place,  I 
had  no  choice.  I  needed  some  one  with  a  head  for  busi- 
ness, who  could  advise  without  lecturing.  Even  Whitelaw 
lectures.  Afterwards  I  grew  accustomed  to  you.  Now, 
when  I'm  branching  out  into  something  better,  I  don't 
want  to  cut  you  adrift.  I'm  in  a  position  now  to  do  some- 
thing for  you." 

Thallon  would  have  liked  to  say  that  his  late  employer 
had  never  taken  him  in,  but  restrained  himself  in  favor  of 
obtaining  information,  rather  than  imparting  it.     It  was 


LEVERSON'S  LIMIT  497 

one  of  those  moments  when  Leverson,  with  all  his  trans- 
parent selfishness,  puzzled  him.  He  was  wondering  how 
far  the  man  believed  in  himself. 

That,  however,  was  not  the  most  vital  question.  Thal- 
lon's  one  belief  in  him  was,  as  has  been  seen,  entirely  nega- 
tive. He  had  agreed  with  Doniphan  in  his  first  assertion 
that  there  were  certain  things  this  man  would  not  do,  and 
had  even  gone  farther  than  Doniphan  in  placing  their 
limits.  He  had  staked  the  success  of  his  present  errand 
on  this  belief,  and  he  was  as  yet  still  of  the  same  mind. 
Nevertheless,  outside  certain  conventional  and  rather 
vaguely  defined  points  of  honor,  he  knew  the  man  to  be 
a  colossal  humbug. 

There  was  some  chilUness  in  Thallon's  show"  of  polite 
protest  as  he  said,  "  But  surely  the  benefit  should  not  be 
all  on  one  side." 

"  I  never  said  it  was.  I  never  play  the  goody-good,  as 
you  know.  What  you  can  do  for  me,  I  take  it  for  granted 
is  clear  enough.  There's  no  use  mincing  matters.  I'm 
leaving  Brockton  more  or  less  under  a  cloud.  As  far  as 
I  go  personally,  I  don't  care  a  rap  what  Brockton  thinks 
of  me.  But  I've  some  one  else  to  consider.  The  thing 
touches  Mrs.  Leverson.  You  could  help  me  to  clear  up 
one  or  two  things  in  her  interests,  as  well  as  mine,  after 
we've  gone." 

Thallon's  face  suddenly  flushed  hot  and  angry. 

"  You're  very  good,  but  the  undertaking  you  suggest  is 
rather  out  of  my  line.  It  strikes  me  what  clearing  up  is 
possible  ought  to  be  done  by  you.  I  came  here  to-night 
to  urge  this  very  thing,  but  not  to  assume  the  task  myself. 
That  this  cleansing  process  is  very  necessary  in  the  in- 
terests of  an  innocent  woman,  I  quite  agree ;  but  even  for 
her  sake  I'll  not  soil  my  hands  with  it.  You  may  have  to 
wash,  but  you've  got  to  wash  yourself." 

The  abrupt  change   of   manner   for  a  moment  bewil- 


498  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

dered  Leverson.  The  other  man  had  spoken  in  a  per- 
fectly modulated  voice.  It  seemed  to  Leverson  he  must 
have  misunderstood  him.  If  the  pent-up  anger  slowly 
rising  in  the  Secretary  through  long  weeks  had  burst  its 
bounds  at  last,  it  came  through  at  first  in  a  small,  cold 
stream,  but  it  was  cutting  a  channel  rapidly  and  might  be 
dangerous. 

"  What  in  thunder  do  you  mean  by  that  ? "  Leverson 
demanded. 

"  I  took  it  for  granted  you  referred  to  Louise  Dupr6. 
If  you  did,  what  I  said  stands." 

A  light  dawned  on  Leverson.  His  manner,  too,  changed 
abruptly. 

"  H-m  !  So  you've  been  investigating  that,  have  you  ? 
By  Jove !  Aunt  Catherine  wasn't  so  far  wrong  in  her 
estimate  of  you,  after  all.  Your  devotion  to  me  hasn't 
prevented  your  feathering  your  own  nest.  If  you  imagine 
you  can  sell  me  your  silence  on  that  point,  you're  over 
sanguine.     I  never  pay  blackmail." 

"  I  thought  I'd  just  reminded  you  I  had  nothing  to  sell. 
To  be  frank,  I  neither  desire  to  feather  my  own  nest  nor 
clean  yours,  though  I  have  some  demands  to  make.  The 
story  you  refer  to  is,  perhaps,  more  common  property  than 
you  imagine.     I've  known  it  ever  since  I  came  here." 

"  Then  you  admit  you've  been  working  against  me  since 
you've  been  in  my  employ.  I've  been  told  as  much,  but 
was  fool  enough  not  to  believe  it." 

"  Against  you  ?  Against  that  side  of  you  which  was 
deliberately  working  your  own  ruin  and  hers,  yes,  ever- 
lastingly yes !  And  you,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  having 
in  the  meantime  tired  of  it,  come  to  me  and  ask  me  if 
the  thing  can  be  patched  up.  Well,  it  cannot  be  patched 
up,  but  it  can  be  cut  out.  By  you,  no  one  else.  I  tried  to 
cut  it  out  some  time  since,  and  failed." 

"  Oh,  did  you  .-•     Now  we're  getting  at  it." 


LEVERSON'S  LIMIT  499 

Thallon  ignored  the  sneer.  His  momentary  anger  was 
gone.  The  paramount  importance  of  what  he  had  to  do 
had  reasserted  itself  to  the  exclusion  of  personal  resentment. 

"  Yes.  I  sent  Reggie  Gilbreed  and  Meyer  on  to  Phila- 
delphia to  find  the  girl,  but  it  was  too  late.  I  came  to 
Brockton  six  months  behind  my  time." 

"Ah,  I  see.  And  all  in  my  interests.  If  so,  why 
secretly,  why  this  reserve  toward  me."*  If  you  found  the 
thing  was  leaking  out,  why  didn't  you  tell  me  of  it,  like  a 
man .? " 

"  You  would  have  been  so  likely  to  listen  to  me  if  I  had. 
You  were  not  ready  to  give  it  up  then,  would  not  be 
now,  except  for  circumstances  which  have  proved  too 
strong  for  you.  Even  that's  temporary.  In  this  new 
life  which  at  present  you  have  decided  shall  be  exemplary, 
the  same  thing,  or  worse,  will  happen  again,  if  you  are 
not  hedged  in  by  something  stronger  than  your  own  sense 
of  decency." 

Ashton  Leverson's  jaw  had  dropped.  He  stood  there 
on  his  own  hearthstone,  staring  stupidly  at  this  former 
clerk  of  his,  whose  audacity  had  passed  the  bounds  of  cre- 
dence. He  was  still  utterly  at  sea  as  to  the  man's  purpose. 
His  lack  of  knowledge  there  hampered  him. 

"  Am  I  to  understand  that  you  propose  '  hedging '  me 
in  by  something  stronger  than  my  '  sense  of  decency  ' } "  he 
managed  to  ask,  "  or  do  you  bring  a  message  to  that  effect 
from  Faucon  or  Doniphan  ?  It's  quite  like  them  to  have 
put  you  up  to  this." 

"  It's  perhaps  fortunate  for  you  that  I'm  the  abettor  in 
this  matter,  rather  than  either  gentleman  you  name," 
Thallon  returned  slowly.  "  A  man  who  has  spent  two 
years  in  trampling  on  a  woman's  sense  of  loyalty  to  him 
usually  gets  small  mercy  from  other  men,  when,  after  see- 
ing him  do  it,  they  once  hold  him  by  the  throat.  It  may 
not  be  to  my  credit  that  I'm  more  merciful." 


k 


500  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Leverson  glanced  at  Thallon's  bandaged  arm  with,  if 
possible,  added  rage,  as  he  walked  over  to  the  two  doors, 
and,  locking  them  one  after  the  other,  put  the  keys  in  his 
pocket.  The  dirty  work  of  thrashing  an  injured  man  was 
abhorrent  to  him,  but  the  mention  of  his  wife's  name  had 
roused  him  to  frenzy. 

Whatever  else  the  other  might  be,  he  was  no  coward. 
He  had  known  when  he  entered  Elmhurst  that  night,  with 
a  certain  definite  programme  set  before  him,  that  he  took 
grave  risks.  A  blow  to  him  meant  death,  —  his  own  death, 
unquestionably,  —  and  yet  he  had  come  unarmed.  He 
watched  Leverson  narrowly,  as  he  paused  for  a  moment 
with  his  back  against  the  hall  door.  He  could  hear  him 
breathing  in  hard,  short  gasps. 

"  So  you  make  demands,  though  in  your  infinite  kind- 
ness you  propose  to  show  mercy,  even  if  you  do  hold  me 
by  the  throat.    I  have  a  consuming  curiosity  to  know  how." 

"  Perhaps  the  simile  was  not  especially  apt.  I  have  no 
desire  to  strangle  you,  and  if  I  had  it  would  do  me  no 
good.  I  find  myself  in  the  strange  position  of  a  man  who 
has  a  claim  on  everything  you  possess,  which  he  does  not 
want,  yet  with  only  such  hold  as  that  claim  gives  him  over 
your  personal  conduct,  which  is  what  he  does  want  above 
all  things.  Let  us  suppose  I  forced  myself  into  your 
shoes  to-night  or  a  month  or  a  year  hence.  I  would  not 
even  then  be  you ;  would  have  no  power  to  take  this  sin 
of  yours  on  my  shoulders  or  repair  it.  I  wish  to  Heaven 
I  might." 

The  very  coolness  of  the  man  stayed  Leverson.  His 
former  clerk  was  either  crazy,  or  he  had  some  strong 
card  to  play  that  was  worth  seeing.  The  words  "  a  claim 
on  everything  you  possess"  had  arrested  his  attention. 
Was  it  possible  the  man  was  leagued  with  Whitelaw  or  the 
Colonel  or  some  of  those  New  York  men  against  him  ? 
Leverson  could   at   times   watch   straws.     The  uncertain 


LEVERSON'S  LIMIT  501 

life  of  the  stock-gambler  had  taught  him  that,  much.  He 
therefore  listened  as  Thallon  went  on. 

"  Jane  Kirk  lost  her  reason,  so  the  story  goes,  at  John 
Leverson's  deathbed.  If  I  have  any  raison  d'itre  at  all, 
I  must  have  got  it  about  the  same  time.  When  your 
brother  paid  his  Western  debts,  a  week  or  so  before  he 
died,  he  opened  the  only  possible  channel  of  communica- 
tion between  himself  and  his  past.  Through  it  he  learned 
for  the  first  time  that  he  had  had  a  son,  that  the  son 
still  lived.  His  last  request  to  you  was  to  find  him  and  do 
him  justice.  He  made  it  in  writing  over  his  own  signa- 
ture. This  paper  came  into  my  hands  to-night,  three 
years  late,  but  not  too  late  to  be  of  service.  I've  brought 
it  to  you  now.     You  see  I've  lost  no  time." 

The  expression  on  Leverson's  face  had  changed  grad- 
ually as  Thallon  went  on.  Passion  had  died  down,  giving 
place  to  contemptuous  incredulity,  replaced  in  turn  by 
growing  caution.  Things  that  had  fallen  from  Miss 
Laurie  in  times  past  came  to  his  mind.  Her  hatred  and 
mistrust  of  Thallon  seemed  suddenly  clothed  with  new 
significance.  The  animal  impulse  of  physical  vengeance 
was  pushed  into  the  background,  if  only  through  sheer 
neces»ty.     He  must  at  all  costs  learn  more. 

"  I  should  very  much  like  to  see  the  paper,"  he  said. 
"  If,  as  you  imply,  it  is  addressed  to  me,  I'd  Hke  to  know 
by  what  authority  you  opened  it  "i  " 

"  By  the  authority  of  the  man  who  wrote  it.  It  is  an 
acknowledgment  of  my  claim  upon  him  as  his  legitimate 
son.  It  has  been  written  three  years  without  being  acted 
upon.  I  conceive  it  my  duty  to  see  that  it  is  acted  upon 
now.  Pardon  me,  if  before  coming  here  I  took  some 
precautions.  I  showed  the  letter  to  your  attorney,  Randal 
Whitelaw,  in  the  presence  of  a  third  party,  Dr.  Lindley. 
The  latter  knew  that  a  letter  had  been  written,  and  iden- 
tified the  writing  and  signature  as  John  Leverson's." 


502  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

There  was  a  momentary  gleam  in  Leverson's  eyes. 

"  But  not  Whitelaw !  " 

"  Naturally  Whitelaw,  as  your  attorney,  would  acknowl- 
edge nothing.  He,  however,  thought  the  matter  of  suffi- 
cient importance  to  write  you.     Here's  his  letter." 

As  he  spoke  Thallon  drew  from  his  pocket  an  envelope 
carefully  sealed  with  wax  and  held  it  out  at  arm's  length. 
Leverson  took  it  ungraciously  (things  were  not  going  well 
enough  to  make  him  pohte)  and  tore  it  open. 

The  hasty  scrawl  which  met  his  eyes  began,  without 
superscription  or  date,  as  follows  :  — 

Oddly  enough,  I  am  asked  to  give  you  my  opinion  of  a  certain  situa- 
tion and  by  letter,  with  the  understanding  that  I  am  not  to  see  you 
until  after  the  bearer  of  this  has  said  his  say.  He,  on  his  side,  has 
agreed  that  this  shall  reach  you,  seal  unbroken,  which  I  have  my  reasons 
for  thinking  it  will.     After  you  have  read  it  please  destroy. 

There  is  no  use  denying  we  have  been  hard  hit.  Whether  his  claim 
is  genuine  or  not,  he  has  a  case,  which  if  it  came  to  trial  would  ruin 
all  our  combinations,  whatever  ultimate  result.  My  advice,  compromise 
if  possible.  Possession  of  so-called  John  Leverson  letter  worth  almost 
any  price.  Have  not  yet  fathomed  the  man's  ultimate  purpose,  but  he 
hints  at  being  reasonable,  almost  too  reasonable  for  my  peace  of 
mind.  If  you  need  me,  call  up  Everett,  and  whatever  you  do,  keep 
your  temper.         In  haste,  R.  Whitelaw. 

Leverson  read  the  letter  through  twice,  first  rapidly, 
almost  hungrily,  then  with  forced  deliberation,  as  if  he 
were  committing  it  to  memory.  When  he  at  last  looked 
up  his  eyes  met  those  of  the  other  man  calmly  watching 
him  across  the  writing  table. 

"  Well,  I'm  ready  for  the  other  one,"  he  observed. 

"  One  moment  as  a  mere  matter  of  form.  I  have  here 
not  only  the  John  Leverson  letter,  but  various  other  docu- 
ments which  are  involved  in  this  case.  If  I  submit  them 
to  you,  I  must  have  your  word  that  you  return  them  to  me 
on  demand  in  precisely  the  same  condition  in  which  you 
received  them." 


LEVERSON'S  LIMIT  503 

The  color  came  back  to  Leverson's  face  for  a  moment. 

"  And  suppose  I  refuse  to  comply,  —  to  return  property 
unquestionably  mine  ? " 

"  It  does  not  belong  to  you.  But  let  that  pass.  If  you 
refuse  my  conditions,  you  refuse  the  papers.  I  am  here 
much  more  in  your  interests  than  mine,  as  I  have  suf- 
ficiently hinted.  If  you  are  incapable  of  taking  the  hint, 
so  much  the  worse  for  you.  Such  as  my  claim  is,  it  can  be 
submitted  at  the  proper  time  to  a  court  of  law,  where  you 
may  find  it  worth  your  while  to  take  some  notice  of  it," 

If  it  had  not  been  for  that  last  line  in  Whitelaw's  note 
—  still  sticking  in  Leverson's  slow  brain  —  the  course  of 
events  just  then  might  have  been  different;  but  the  appeal 
there  to  his  interests  was  stronger  than  the  other  appeal  to 
passion. 

"  Come,  come  !  we're  wasting  time,"  he  exclaimed  irrita- 
bly,    "  I  agree.     Let's  see  the  thing,  for  Heaven's  sake," 

Thallon  deliberately  seated  himself  before  Leverson's 
table,  clearing  a  space  by  pushing  aside  a  pile  of  unopened 
mail  which  littered  it.  Then  he  drew  from  his  coat  pocket 
a  bundle  of  papers  and  arranged  them  before  him,  much 
as  if  they  had  been  an  important  exhibit  at  a  criminal  trial. 

"  Here's  the  most  important  one,"  he  began  cheerfully. 

"Worth  almost  any  price,"  Leverson  thought  to  himself 
as  he  took  it.     "  My  God  !     It  can't  be  true  !  " 

He  turned  to  the  signature  first  and  his  face  went  deadly 
white.  If  it  was  a  forgery,  it  was  marvellously  well  done. 
He  had  known  the  signature  since  early  boyhood,  —  every 
line,  every  twist  of  it —  "John  Leverson." 

Thallon  watched  him  as  he  absorbed  its  meaning, — 
reading  his  face  much  faster  than  Leverson  read  the  lines. 
There  was  more  or  less  danger  in  the  defeat  which  slowly 
crept  into  it.  Had  he,  Thallon,  been  a  fool  to  trust  him } 
Doniphan  had  advised  against  it.  The  fate  of  the  letter 
seemed  at  the  moment  to  hang  on  a  thread. 


504  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

No;  after  reading  it  twice  Leverson  handed  it  back. 
He  had  not  reached  his  limit  yet. 

"  I  began  with  this,"  Thallon  resumed,  after  a  pause, 
"because  it  is  the  important  Hnk  in  the  chain.  I  can 
prove  it  genuine  through  Dr.  Lindley,  who  was  present 
when  it  was  written,  though  he  did  not  then  know  its  con- 
tents. He  even  recognized  the  paper  used  by  the  dying 
man  as  some  he  had  seen  handed  him  by  Miss  Laurie. 
Accepting  it  as  genuine,  it  estabUshes  beyond  question  the 
identity  of  John  Leverson  of  Brockton  with  the  younger 
man,  John  Thallon  of  Belle  Plain.  That  I  was  the  legiti- 
mate son  of  that  John  Thallon  I  have  been  able  to  prove 
since  I  was  born.     The  proofs  are  here." 

One  of  Leverson's  great  brown  hands  rested  heavily  on 
the  table,  the  fingers  working  nervously. 

"What  do  I  care  for  proofs  ? "  he  said  hoarsely.  "  The 
lawyers  can  pass  on  that.  I  can't  take  the  thing  in  all  at 
once.  What's  said  between  us  may  be  put  in  five  words. 
Supposing  you  have  the  power  to  beggar  me,  what  do  you 
propose  to  do .-"  " 

"  In  my  own  direct  interests,  nothing.  I  renounce  all 
claim  to  the  use  of  my  father's  name.  I  wanted  it  once  as 
an  act  of  simple  justice  to  the  dead.  I  relinquish  it  now 
for  the  one  to  which  I  was  born.  Why  not .-'  It  stands  the 
cleaner  of  the  two.  Any  blot  upon  it  was  wiped  out  three 
years  ago  —  with  the  payment  of  the  Belle  Plain  debts." 

Leverson,  who,  with  hands  thrust  deep  into  his  trousers 
pockets,  had  just  taken  a  restless  pace  or  two  across  the 
room,  turned  impatiently  to  face  his  companion. 

"  I  haven't  the  slightest  desire  to  force  the  name  upon 
you.  I'm  not  so  devotedly  fond  of  my  blood  relations 
that  I'm  anxious  to  possess  any  more  of  them,  especially 
those  who  make  long  moral  speeches.  The  point  remains 
that  apparently  you  do  want  something.  What  the  devil 
is  it } ' 


LEVERSON'S  LIMIT  505 

"  Your  joint  action  with  me  for  the  release  of  Dupr6. 
If  I  can  afford  it,  you  can.  The  placing  in  Doniphan's 
hands  of  a  sufficient  sum  to  settle  the  family  in  some  re- 
spectable situation  at  a  distance  from  Brockton.  I  say 
Doniphan  because  they  would  not  take  the  money  if  they 
knew  it  came  from  you.  I  demand  that  in  leaving  Brock- 
ton you  leave  this  stain,  and  all  others  like  it,  as  far  as 
may  be,  behind  you.  I  demand  that  you  keep  the  name 
which  belonged  to  my  father  as  clean  as  he  kept  it.  Lastly, 
I  demand  that  your  wife  be  kept  in  ignorance  of  what  is 
past.  You  owe  her  that,  at  least,  as  it  cannot  be  undone. 
I  owe  her  that,  at  least,  for  many  acts  of  kindness  I  cannot 
measure." 

Whether  it  brought  back  Leverson's  anger  to  the  jeopardy 
of  his  cause  or  not,  the  other  man  felt  these  last  words  had 
got  to  be  said.  Some  guardianship  of  Margaret  Leverson's 
future  he  had  got  to  assume  if  this  compact  were  to  be 
worth  the  having. 

But  Leverson's  acceptance  of  his  terms  was  worth 
anything  to  him  short  of  their  modification.  He  watched 
the  other's  face  narrowly,  estimating  his  own  chances  of 
success. 

Leverson's  mind  was  working  faster  now.  The  mention 
of  his  wife's  name  had  not  affected  him  as  it  had  before, 
because  the  man  who  used  it  occupied  a  changed  position. 
An  interest  in  his  own  moral  welfare  might  be  an  insult, 
exhibited  by  a  paid  employee.  A  newly  found  relation  (as 
he  was  supposing  him  to  be),  with  an  entirely  new  and 
greedy  clutch  upon  the  Leverson  fortune,  could  hardly  be 
choked  into  silence  in  the  same  off-hand  manner.  Even 
the  word  "  demand,"  galling  as  it  was,  might  be  swallowed 
if  this  young  man  could  be  persuaded  to  take  his  pay  in 
morals. 

As  with  Randal  Whitelaw,  the  extreme  reasonableness 
of  the  proposition  was  with  Leverson  what  made  its  sin- 


506  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

cerity  so  difficult  of  belief.  He  had  never  observed  any 
strong  leaning  toward  saintliness  in  Thallon  himself,  nor 
any  morbid  longing  in  him  to  develop  it  in  others.  Yet  in 
casting  about  for  his  antagonist's  ulterior  motive,  strongly 
convinced  as  he  was  that  there  must  be  one,  Leverson, 
strangely  enough,  was  very  far  from  guessing  the  truth. 

It  was  his  involuntary  tribute  to  his  wife  —  that  he  could 
no  more  conceive  of  her  having  a  lover  than  he  could  con- 
cieve  of  her  leaving  his  own  roof  under  whatever  provoca- 
tion. He  paused  again  in  front  of  Thallon,  with  a  touch 
of  shrewdness  not  before  observable  in  him. 

"  And  supposing  I  undertake  to  satisfy  you  on  these 
points,  am  I  to  understand  that  you  relinquish  this  prepos- 
terous claim  in  proper  legal  form,  —  a  regular  release,  — 
quit  claim,  or  whatever  else  Whitelaw  would  call  it  .■*  " 

"  No !  Whitelaw  suggested  something  of  the  kind.  I 
declined  it  for  a  very  obvious  reason.  You  are  not  buying 
me  off.  I  personally  do  not  want  a  dollar  of  the  money. 
I  simply  want  a  promise ;  your  written  bond  would  be 
worth  no  more.  In  return  I  offer  exactly  the  same  secur- 
ity. As  long  as  you  hold  to  your  agreement  I  hold  to 
mine,  that  is  to  say,  make  no  move,  but  not  a  moment 
longer." 

"  The  claim  would  be  barred  by  years." 

"  Hardly.  I  can  only  alienate  real  estate,  once  duly  in- 
herited, by  deed.     I  haven't  signed  one  yet." 

"The  property's  not  real  estate,  but  the  stock  of  a 
corporation." 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  Thallon  to  suppress  a 
look  of  contempt,  even  if  he  had  tried. 

"  Who  formed  the  corporation  ?  It  gets  its  title  through 
you.  How  much  is  your  deed  to  the  corporation  worth 
if  I'm  Owen  Leverson  ? " 

It  looked  very  much  as  if  he  were  pushing  the  defendant 
a  little  too  ruthlessly.     Again  Leverson's  eyes   had  that 


LEVERSON'S   LIMIT  507 

dangerous  red  light  in  them  as  they  travelled  from  his 
adversary's  face  to  the  papers  spread  out  so  carelessly  on 
the  table. 

He  moved  a  step  nearer,  but  his  movement  was  not  as 
quick  as  Thallon's.  For  a  man  who  used  but  one  hand 
he  swept  the  papers  together  with  remarkable  despatch. 
By  the  time  Leverson  reached  it  Thallon  was  standing  on 
the  other  side  of  the  table,  buttoning  his  coat. 

At  the  same  moment  there  was  a  sharp  rap  at  the  door, 
more  imperative  than  usually  came  from  Morgan's  knuckles; 
yet  it  was  Morgan's  voice  saying  something  on  the  other 
side  —  the  tone  distinctly  urgent,  though  the  words  through 
the  oak  panel  were  unintelligible. 

"  You'd  better  let  him  in,"  Thallon  said  sharply ;  "  some- 
thing's gone  wrong," 

Leverson  never  knew  just  why  he  obeyed  him.  His 
own  mind  was  in  dire  confusion.  The  animal  instinct  to 
snatch  victory  from  a  desperate  situation  by  brute  force  was 
in  check  for  the  moment.  He  was  not  afraid  of  his  enemy, 
but  he  had  begun  to  be  afraid  of  himself.  The  thing,  bad 
as  it  was,  might  be  made  worse.  He  had  got,  as  Whitelaw 
said,  to  be  careful.  He  turned  abruptly,  walked  to  the 
door  and  unlocked  it. 

Morgan  stood  in  the  doorway,  the  picture  of  well-bred 
embarrassment.  It  was  not  only  quite  evident  that  he  had 
interrupted  an  important  conference  at  a  critical  stage,  but 
he  was  not  even  allowed  to  explain  this  enormity  in  his 
own  way.  Behind  him  two  or  three  women  servants  with 
flushed,  anxious  faces  had  already  pressed  forward  beyond 
the  reach  of  his  restraining  hand. 

Before  he  had  a  chance  to  speak,  Leverson's  devoted 
servant  realized  with  a  pang  that  the  honor  of  the  family 
was  to  be  dragged  before  unfriendly  eyes.  Unlike  most 
of  the  other  servants  at  Elmhurst,  Morgan  had  never  liked 
Thallon.     To-night  he  not  only  disliked  him,  but  distrusted 


508  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

him.  It  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  him  when  Mrs. 
Leverson's  maid,  Alice,  pushed  past  him,  bursting  simul- 
taneously into  a  flood  of  speech  and  tears  mingled  inco- 
herently. 

"  I  tell  you  she's  gone,  my  lady,  my  own  lamb's  gone, 
and  I  only  hope  you're  satisfied,"  she  wailed  miserably. 
"  She  sent  me  away  half  an  hour  ago,  after  bein'  that 
sweet  she  'most  made  me  cry,  and  when  I  went  back  she 
wasn't  in  her  room.  She  hadn't  touched  the  morsel  of 
dinner  I'd  brought  her,  just  changed  her  dress  and  went. 
On  foot  too,  for  there  ain't  a  carriage  left  the  stable,  and 
on  a  night  like  this  to  get  her  death !  Oh,  my  pretty 
lamb  !  my  own  pretty  lamb  !  " 

Leverson,  for  once  in  his  life,  in  the  presence  of  a  liberty, 
seemed  berefit  of  speech.  Thallon  stepped  forward,  be- 
tween him  and  the  excited  girl. 

"  Have  you  searched  the  house  ?  "  he  demanded  sternly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  Morgan  interjected,  reluctantly  acknowledg- 
ing Thallon's  right  to  question.  "  She  must  have  gone 
out  through  the  dining  room.  One  of  the  long  veranda 
windows  was  open,  and  I  found  this  caught  in  the  handle." 

He  exhibited  a  scrap  of  fringe  torn  from  a  Scotch  plaid 
shawl. 

Thallon  looked  doubtful. 

"Not  hers,  surely;  I  never  saw  it  before." 

Alice  broke  in  again  breathlessly .  "  An  old  one  she 
never  wore,  but  she  treasured  it  because  it  was  her 
mother's.     Oh,  my  lamb  —  my  lamb  !  " 

Leverson  shook  himself  together  with  a  mighty  effort. 
His  face  was  white  to  the  lips  and  hard  as  cut  steel.  He 
took  the  girl  by  the  arm  roughly. 

"  You're  keeping  something  back !  What  have  you  got 
there  ? " 

He  pointed  to  Alice's  clinched  left  hand,  held  jealously 
against  her  breast.     Her  eyes  shot  fire  not  devoid  of  spite. 


LEVERSON'S   LIMIT  509 

"  The  proof  she's  gone  and  why !  You  needn't  be 
afraid,  you'll  know  'em  soon  enough.  She  left  'em  on  her 
dressing  table,  every  one  she  had,  even  this." 

She  dropped  a  little  heap  of  glittering  jewels  on  the  table 
by  which  she  stood.  They  glowed  and  sparkled  under  the 
soft  lamp  light,  but  the  thing  she  pointed  at  was  a  little 
circle  of  plain  gold,  unmistakably  a  wedding  ring. 

Leverson  seized  it  and  held  it  closer  to  the  light,  his 
hand  shaking  in  spite  of  himself.  Thallon  had  turned  to 
Morgan  as  he  swung  his  coat  over  his  shoulders. 

"  Ring  up  the  stable  for  Mr.  Doniphan's  carriage. 
Then  come  back  here  and  keep  an  eye  on  him,  for  his 
own  sake.  Take  these  women  away.  There's  no  time  to 
waste.     I've  got  to  speak  to  him  before  I  go." 

There  was  no  withstanding  that  square  jaw.  For  that 
one  moment  at  least  this  waif  and  stray  ruled  in  his 
father's  house.  An  instant  later  he  was  alone  with  Lever- 
son  again,  but  this  time  the  key  of  th^door  was  not  in 
Leverson's  pocket. 

"  So  she  knows } "  Thallon  said,  with  a  deliberation  in 
singular  contrast  to  the  rapidity  of  his  last  words. 

Leverson  turned  from  the  table.  There  was  something 
dead  about  the  face ;  only  the  eyes  still  glowed  fiercely. 

"  What's  that  to  you  ? " 

"  Only  this.  It  cuts  the  ground  from  under  any  com- 
pact between  us.  You  cannot  fulfil  your  part  of  it  if  you 
wanted  to.     It's  too  late  !  " 

"  Compact !  Who  ever  said  I  wanted  one.  Go  to  your 
lawyers  and  begin  your  work.  If  she's  —  but  I  can't  dis- 
cuss that  with  you.  Our  relationship  has  never  been  any- 
thing more  than  master  and  servant.  In  giving  that  up  I 
advise  you  not  to  assume  any  other  on  your  own  account. 
As  for  the  money,  what  I've  got  I'll  fight  for.  Pray  re- 
member that." 

Thallon  looked  at  him  with  the  first  touch  of  pity  he  h?id 


510  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

felt  for  him  in  his  life.  Then  the  thought  of  a  woman  in  the 
storm  outside  came  to  him  —  in  a  great  burst  of  passion. 

"  Done ! "  he  said.  "  You  may  go  to  the  devil  in  any  way 
you  like,  and  take  the  money  with  you  for  aught  I  care !  " 

He  swung  open  the  door  to  meet  Morgan,  with  the  an- 
nouncement of  Doniphan's  carriage.  He  never  once  looked 
back  as  he  crossed  the  hall. 

Not  so  Leverson.  He  watched  him  go  in  curious  silence. 
Watched  Morgan  come  back  and  stand  at  the  study  door 
irresolute. 

The  man  shifted  his  weight  uncomfortably. 

"  Nothing  to  be  done,  sir ,-'  About  Mrs.  Leverson  —  " 
he  began  cautiously. 

"  Nothing  whatever." 

Morgan  started  to  speak  again.    Leverson  cut  him  short. 

"  I  said  '  nothing.'  " 

Alone  again,  the  man  faced  his  misery,  none  the  less 
misery  because  it  brought  no  softening  touch,  either  of  re- 
pentance or  of  forgiveness.  The  predominant  sensation  in 
him  was  self-pity,  mixed  with  some  admiration  for  the  plucky 
way  in  which  he  had  taken  up  the  gauge  of  battle.  The 
entire  world  was  leagued  against  him,  and  he  was  fighting 
it  with  his  back  to  the  wall.  His  wife  who,  of  course,  knew 
of  his  threatened  loss  of  fortune,  had  deserted  him  in  cold 
blood.  Thallon's  interest  in  her  was  explained  at  last.  He 
had  let  the  man  go  out  of  the  house  alive  because  his  life 
was  a  much  better,  cleaner  vengeance  than  his  death  could 
possibly  be.  As  for  the  money,  —  1.'-^  would  fight  for  that 
as  he  had  never  fought  before.  '    - 

But  the  question  was,  how  ?  If  he  could  only^ collect  his 
thoughts  —  decide  on  the  first  move.  Anyway,  it  should 
be  made  on  his  own  initiative.  He  would  not  consult 
Whitelaw.  Through  something  Thallon  had  said,  he  dis- 
trusted Whitelaw  as  much  as  any  one. 

He  swept  the  jewels  into  a  drawer  of  the  table,  as  if  he 


LEVERSON'S   LIMIT  51I 

were  clearing  some  field  of  action.  In  doing  so  he  knocked 
over  the  pile  of  unopened  letters  which  had  lain  there  ever 
since  he  came  home.  He  had  begun  mechanically  to  put 
them  back  one  by  one,  when  his  eye  caught  the  slightly 
charred  end  of  an  envelope  protruding  from  under  a  busi- 
ness circular.  For  a  moment  its  significance  did  not  come 
to  him.  He  picked  it  up,  turned  it  over  to  note  the  ad- 
dress, his  mind  on  other  things ;  then,  with  a  sharp  indraw- 
ingof  thebreath,  he  recognized  the  precious  Leverson  letter. 
There  could  be  no  question  about  it  when  he  drew  it  out. 
Line  for  line,  word  for  word,  —  it  was  the  same  he  had  read 
in  such  misery  and  humiliation  a  few  moments  since. 

He  saw  now,  as  the  scene  came  back  to  him,  how  it  had 
come  there.  His  threatening  move  toward  Thallon  had 
stood  him  in  good  stead.  In  hastily  gathering  up  his 
hateful  documents  the  traitor  had,  accidentally,  shoved 
this  most  important  of  them  all  under  the  pile  of  letters. 
Oh,  act  of  exquisite  justice!  This  one  all-important  piece 
of  evidence  — this  one  scrap  of  writing,  incontestably  his  — 
had  fallen  into  his  lap  without  his  even  asking  for  it. 

He  read  it  again  from  start  to  finish  to  convince  himself 
it  was  the  same,  and  ended  by  being  very  nearly  convinced, 
not  only  that  it  was  the  same,  but  genuine. 

Well,  what  if  it  were  ?  His  enemies  had  handled  him 
without  gloves,  had  gained  the  upper  hand  of  him  by  a 
dishonorable  trick.  He  was  only  fighting  them  with  their 
own  weapons.  If  Thallon  had  speciously  offered  him 
quarter,  they  wer**  quits  there,  for  he  had  declined  it. 
Once  upon  a  time  Catherine  Laurie  had  had  the  keeping 
of  this  bit  of  family  history,  and  it  had  slipped  through 
her  weak  fingers.  He,  Leverson,  would  take  care  that, 
when  it  passed  out  of  his  hands,  it  made  its  final  exit. 

Leverson  had  reached  his  limit  at  last.  There  was  no 
hesitation  in  his  face  as  he  struck  a  match,  and,  stooping, 
held  it  to  the  little  pile  of  shavings  in  the  grate. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 


LIGHT    IN    DARKNESS 


Margaret,  too,  had  reached  her  limit,  reached  the  end 
of  that  story  begun  two  years  before  when  the  Colonel  had 
given  her  away  —  so  ran  the  phrase  all  innocent  of  irony  — 
at  St.  Stephen's,  and  the  choir  had  sung  "  The  Voice  that 
Breathed  o'er  Eden,"  very  touchingly. 

Only  two  years  !  —  four  and  twenty  months !  —  and  yet 
in  them  lay  the  difference  between  girlhood  and  woman- 
hood, beUef  in  herself  and  doubt  of  herself ;  high  courage 
exchanged  for  bitter  contempt ;  high  ideals  for  compromise 
with  conscience.  Two  years  of  slow  awakening,  of  tardy 
recognition,  of  realization !  Resolutions  made  and  broken, 
clung  to,  lost  hold  of.  Unanswered  prayers  that  she 
might  fulfil,  smothered  by  the  overmastering  longing  to 
escape  that  ran  in  her  blood  like  quicksilver,  tingling  to 
her  finger  tips. 

Then  had  come  that  slow,  hopeless  groping  in  thick 
darkness.  She  had  waited  for  six  long  months  before  a 
barred  door,  asking,  not  for  liberty,  but  for  light;  and 
now,  at  last,  the  door  had  opened  on  a  dazzling  vision 
of  freedom  —  absolute  freedom  ! 

But  it  had  not  stopped  there.  The  violence  of  her  first 
open  revolt  had  carried  her  off  her  feet,  hurrying  her  on 
recklessly,  regardless  of  attendant  consequences,  which, 
ultimately,  she  must  either  conquer  or  submit  to. 

She  put  all  of  that  back  of  her  for  the  moment  because 
she  still  had  her  part  to  play.     To  the  last  moment,  while 

512 


LIGHT   IN   DARKNESS  513 

she  was  inside  these  four  walls,  she  must  keep  up  appear- 
ances. It  was  her  last  tribute  to  the  prejudices  of  her 
class.  The  very  room  where  she  had  sought  refuge, 
her  own  room,  pregnant  with  the  tyranny  of  the  life 
she  had  lived  there,  seemed  to  demand  it  of  her. 

Her  voice  did  not  falter  as  she  bade  Alice  good  night, 
though  it  was  so  hard  that  she  could  not  say  good-by. 
Servant  or  not,  she  was  parting  with  her  best  friend,  and 
she  knew  it,  one  at  least  who  would  note  her  absence 
to-morrow  and  would  care. 

Even  when  she  was  left  alone,  staring  into  the  dying  fire, 
she  kept  on  the  mask.  She  of  all  women  could  afford  no 
indulgence  in  useless  sentiment.  The  time  for  regrets, 
reproaches,  the  looking  back  on  the  might-have-beens,  had 
gone  by.  The  Past  was  absolutely  dead.  The  subtilely 
tempting  Present  was  all  about  her,  calling  to  her  to  take 
and  enjoy  it  on  her  own  terms.  A  swift,  dangerous  current 
was  carrying  her  on  — on  —  and  she  was  not  trying  to  guide 
herself.  It  was  so  restful  after  months  of  fighting  not  to  care. 

Yet  she  had  got  to  think,  to  plan,  if  only  for  the  sake 
of  the  task  which  lay  before  her  that  night.  What  re- 
sources had  she  to  draw  upon  }  That  alone  must  go  far 
toward  determining  her  first  move. 

She  knew  well  Leverson's  assertion  that  Cuthbert  Fau- 
con  would  never  sanction  a  legal  separation  was  true,  but 
it  was  equally  true  that  the  Rector  of  St.  Stephen's  was 
not  the  only  representative  of  the  Church,  any  more  than 
Mobray  Doniphan  stood  for  the  World  outside. 

Both  men  were  far  too  individual  to  represent  merely  a 
brand  of  thought.  For  very  different  reasons  they  stood 
together,  opposing  a  certain  impelling  instinct  which  was 
fastening  itself  upon  her  as  she  sat  there.  Either  would 
offer  her  shelter  and  protection,  but  to  accept  it  from 
either  would  imply  an  obligation  she  was  not  yet  ready  to 
take  upon  herself. 


514  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Why  should  she  blush  to  own  it  ?  This  overwhelming 
craving  to  assert  her  right  to  live  and  enjoy  was  asking 
her  to  do  nothing  lawless,  nothing  but  what  other  women 
who  had  gone  on  leading  noble,  useful  lives  had  done 
before  her. 

Any  Protestant  Church  was  bound  for  this  one  cause  to 
confirm  her  freedom ;  and  then,  why  should  she  not  be 
happy  in  ways  of  her  own  choosing. 

The  strong  individuality  of  the  woman  was  asserting 
itself  after  long  repression.  Her  active  mind,  freed  from 
the  trammels  which  had  bound  it  down,  was  taking  great 
leaps  into  the  unknown  future.  She  had  parted  with  self- 
negation,  she  had  fought  her  last  battle  against  the  youth 
in  her,  and,  for  the  moment,  it  had  conquered  her. 

The  wife  of  Ashton  Leverson  lay  dead  amid  the  ruins 
of  a  life  of  hesitation,  of  shackled  purposes.  He  had  killed 
her  obligation  under  her  oath  by  his  own  deliberate  act. 
She  owed  it  to  herself,  to  her  sex,  to  her  class,  that  out  of 
its  ashes  should  arise  a  stronger,  nobler  soul.  Her  natural 
character  rushed  back  into  its  broader  channel  after  two 
years  of  restraint,  in  an  eddying  flood  she  made  no  attempt 
to  stem. 

Yet  even  in  the  midst  of  it  some  other  chord  in  her 
vibrated  in  discord  with  the  new  self-assertion.  She 
went  over  to  her  dressing  table  and  picked  up  a  small 
oval-framed  photograph  of  her  mother.  The  expression 
on  her  own  face  changed  to  one  of  eager  questioning  as 
she  looked  at  it  closely  under  the  light.  No  devout  Cath- 
olic could  have  gazed  with  more  reverence  on  the  face  of 
an  enthroned  saint. 

It  was  so  calm,  so  confident,  yet  this  too  was  the  face  of 
a  woman  who  had  wasted  her  life  in  the  service  of  uncom- 
prehending selfishness  and  ingratitude.  Here  at  least 
there  had  been  no  beating  against  the  bars.  No  word,  no 
murmur  of  complaint  in  three  and  twenty  years  had  come 


LIGHT  IN   DARKNESS  515 

from  those  straight,  firm  lips.  Not  from  them  had  her 
daughter  learned   Margaret  Gilbreed's  story. 

Was  this  religion  ?  Not  a  dogma,  but  a  Life,  the  kind 
of  life  that  takes  no  thought  of  time  because  it  knows 
itself  a  part  of  the  Infinite,  the  Life  Everlasting. 

Its  aim  was  so  perfectly  clear  in  the  presence  of  its 
achievement,  and  its  means  so  simple,  as  to  seem  almost 
childish  to  a  woman  who  had  met  a  different  problem  in  a 
very  different  world. 

Living  on  the  strength  of  a  promise  !  The  younger 
woman  knew  it  all  by  heart,  had  tried  it,  and  had  not 
found  it  possible  for  her. 

It  was  so  typified  in  her  mother's  little  devotional  books, 
the  marked  passages  from  the  Evangelists,  Psalms,  and  the 
"  Imitation  of  Christ."  What  could  they  mean  to  the 
throbbing  life  of  a  world  like  this,  wrestling  with  great 
problems  and  demanding  facts,  not  dreams. 

The  self-conscious  abasement  of  the  k  Kempis  "  Pat- 
tern "  filtered  through  such  a  character  had  become  in 
reality  self-forgetfulness.  The  problems  of  her  world  had 
been  met,  not  shunned  with  pious  resignation.  She  had 
dominated  a  household  from  a  bed  of  perpetual  suffering, 
always  smiling.  If  it  were  inconsistent,  it  was  a  glorious 
inconsistency. 

Even  the  photograph  had  its  line  of  writing  on  the 
back,  Margaret's  own  name,  a  date,  and  a  quotation.  She 
had  no  need  to  turn  to  it,  she  had  read  it  hundreds  of 
times  since  she  had  first  puzzled  over  it  as  a  child,  and  its 
definite  value  was  very  little  clearer  to  her  now  than  then. 

He  thai  overcometh  shall  inherit. 

She  laid  down  the  photograph,  conscious  of  both  fasci- 
nation and  repulsion  in  the  thoughts  recalled  by  it.  It  was 
useless  to  tell  herself  that  the  standard  set  was  an  im- 
possible standard,  because  this   life   had   unquestionably 


5l6  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

been  lived.  To  sneer  at  its  Sunday-school  ethics  was  no 
answer  to  the  logic  of  its  results.  Margaret  Gilbreed  had 
lived  a  strong,  brave  life,  had  left  the  world  better  than 
she  found  it,  and  had  died  happy.  She  had  "  overcome." 
If  the  world  wanted  facts,  it  had  them  there. 

Ah !  but  the  elder  woman  had  not  been  asked  to  over- 
come this.  The  instant  Margaret's  mind  swung  back  to 
that  one  supreme  outrage,  it  became  unique.  All  else 
seemed  to  follow  as  a  matter  of  course.  Careful !  Yes, 
she  would  be  careful.  She  would  put  this  other  thought, 
that  other  face,  out  of  her  mind.  Beyond  that  she  wanted 
no  help,  no  counsel.  They  had  all  failed  her,  one  after 
the  other,  though  surely  Mobray  Doniphan  would  not 
have  asked  her  to  bear  this,  if  he  had  known. 

No,  her  natural  refuge  was  with  Reggie.  She  feared 
his  anger  against  Leverson,  but  she  had  great  faith  in  her 
own  influence.  She  would  go  on  with  him  to  New  York. 
She  would  make  a  home  for  the  boy,  while  he  was  building 
one  for  Hilda.  Meanwhile  she  need  not  be  dependent ; 
her  education  would  stand  her  in  good  stead  there.  Doni- 
phan had  often  told  her  that  she  could  earn  her  living 
easily  as  a  librarian  or  literary  secretary,  and  though  he 
had  said  it  jokingly,  she  had  known  that  he  meant  it.  The 
idea  carried  such  alluring  possibilities.  To  be  unknown, 
lost  in  a  great  city,  lost  in  her  work,  lost  to  the  last  vestige 
of  her  present  life.  What  retirement  from  the  world  could 
make  her  as  safe  as  that .-"  Poor  Margaret !  Wise,  oh,  so 
wise,  at  one  and  twenty  ! 

She  had  never  been  dressed  by  AUce  as  rapidly  as  she 
dressed  herself  that  night,  in  one  of  her  school  dresses, 
kept  until  now  for  the  sake  of  old  association.  Everything, 
thanks  to  her  expected  departure,  was  in  order.  Her 
household  account  books  balanced  to  a  penny,  and  what 
money  she  had  over  she  sealed  in  an  envelope  with  Lever- 
son's  name  written  across  it.     She  was  ready  in  less  than 


LIGHT   IN   DARKNESS  517 

an  hour  from  the  time  she  had  come  upstairs.  Her  mother's 
pearl  necklace,  left  on  her  dressing  table  since  the  day  be- 
fore, the  photograph,  and  some  money  which  had  come  to 
her  from  her  own  family,  were  safe  in  a  little  chatelaine 
bag  at  her  waist. 

As  she  crossed  the  room  and  wrapped  her  mother's  old 
plaid  shawl  about  her,  she  thought  with  keen  elation  that 
she  wore  nothing,  touched  nothing,  that  had  come  from 
him. 

She  looked  back  defiantly  at  a  little  pile  of  glittering 
jewels  on  the  dressing  table.  She  had  not  been  the  one 
to  cut  the  chains  that  held  her,  but  they  had  been  cut,  and 
it  was  good,  very  good,  to  see  them  lying  there,  broken 
beyond  mending. 

From  the  man  downstairs,  from  the  miserable  girl  in  the 
storm  outside,  she  was  as  separate  as  if  they  had  never 
touched  her  life.  If  anything,  she  owed  them  a  debt  of 
gratitude.     Had  they  not  set  her  free } 

She  opened  the  door  into  the  corridor  cautiously. 
There  were  muffled  voices  below,  but  the  upper  passage 
was  clear.  She  sped  down  it  rapidly,  wrapped  in  her  dark 
plaid,  like  some  tall  figure  of  bad  omen  for  the  house  of 
Leverson,  —  as  she  was,  —  a  sad  contrast  to  what  she  had 
been  on  entering  it  two  years  before. 

It  was  too  late  now  for  any  one  to  be  in  the  dining  room. 
From  the  foot  of  the  stairway  she  passed  through  it  safely 
and  had  partly  opened  one  of  the  glass  doors  when  she 
thought  she  heard  footsteps  behind  her  in  the  semi-dark- 
ness of  the  room.  She  made  no  pause  to  verify  the  fear 
that  shot  through  her  like  a  knife.  If  she  should  be  stopped 
and  questioned  !  She  dashed  open  the  glass  door  and  out 
into  the  full  fury  of  the  storm.  Something  had  caught  at 
her  shawl  an  instant  as  she  passed,  but  she  snatched  it 
free  and  sped  on,  her  teeth  set,  her  eyes  glowing. 

Her  strong  young  body  revelled  in  the  wildness  of  the 


5l8  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

night.  She  felt  herself  a  part  of  it.  Moved  by  her  own 
natural  impulses,  she  was  as  free  as  the  wind  that  smote 
her.     Free  at  last !  to  live  a  life  of  her  own  choosing  ! 

******* 

Thallon  paused  a  moment  with  his  foot  on  the  carriage 
step  to  give  Dan  some  brief  directions. 

"  Brockton,  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  keep  a  careful  look- 
out for  a  lady  —  a  woman  — walking  in  the  same  direction, 
wrapped  in  a  dark  shawl.  Has  twenty  minutes  or  half  an 
hour  start.  Got  to  overtake  her  before  she  reaches  the  old 
toll-gate  in  the  Warrenton  Road.  If  she  turns  off  there, 
we've  lost  her!     Don't  you  understand,  we've  lost  her!  " 

His  own  face  was  still  set  and  white  as  it  had  been  with 
those  last  words  he  had  hurled  behind  him  at  Leverson, 
but  the  eagerness  in  the  eyes  had  become  intensified  with 
the  image  they  fed  upon. 

As  the  carriage  sped  on  over  the  smooth  macadam,  he 
tore  apart  the  side  curtains,  regardless  of  wind  or  rain.  He 
had  already,  in  his  swift  adjustment  of  himself  to  the 
change  in  circumstances,  dismissed  Leverson  from  his  cal- 
culations, as  Leverson  had  dismissed  himself,  as  a  factor  in 
Margaret  Gilbreed's  ultimate  destiny.  And  whose  fault 
was  it  .■*  he  asked  himself,  with  withering  scorn. 

Not  his !  By  no  thought,  no  word,  no  deed  of  his  had 
this  night's  work  come  about,  thank  Heaven !  He  was 
stealing  no  man's  rights,  betraying  no  man's  confidence. 
For  three  months  he  had,  without  the  asking,  defended 
both  from  exposure  and  scandal,  and  to  crown  all  he  had 
come  to  Elmhurst  two  hours  before  bent  on  self-effacement. 

And  he  had  found  what .'' 

Was  he  to  let  her  struggle  on  without  one  word  of  all  he 
had  crushed  down,  unspoken,  since  he  had  first  known  her 
story  ?  He  told  himself  fiercely  that  he  asked  nothing 
more  than  this  ;  that  that  element  of  deep  reverence  which 
lay  at  the  root  of  all  his  love  for  her,  even  in  its  most 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS  519 

unruly  moments,  was  stronger  than  ever  that  night,  and  in 
a  sense  it  was  true. 

Yet,  if  it  were  wholly  true,  why  must  he  see  her  now, 
harassed  and  worn  with  fighting,  weary  to  weakness,  why 
must  he  speak  then  before  she  took  refuge  with  those  who 
had  a  natural  right  to  protect  her  ? 

He  flushed  angrily  as  Doniphan's  words  came  unbidden 
into  his  mind,  "  Your  whole  attitude  turns  on  your  secret 
consciousness  that  the  girl  loves  you." 

If  it  had  been  true  then,  it  was  true  now,  but  how  could 
he  be  sure  ?  He  had  been  willing  to  efface  himself  then, 
with  the  certainty  of  adding  to  her  distress  as  the  alterna- 
tive, but  now  it  was  different.  She  could  go  nowhere 
without  finding  much  to  bear.  Could  he  not  make  it  easier 
to  bear  by  just  one  word  ? 

All  this  was  merely  passing  through  the  background  of 
his  mind.  Every  outward  sense  was  keenly  strained  to 
catch  sight  of  a  fleeing,  muffled  figure  before  they  reached 
the  old  disused  toll-gate  at  the  Warrenton  Road. 

Yet  Dan,  strangely  taciturn  and  phlegmatic  this  night  of 
all  nights,  was  the  first  to  see  her.  They  had  passed  no 
pedestrians,  as  was  natural,  and  had  come  in  sight  of  the 
limit  of"  their  chase,  the  low  shingle  roof  of  the  toll-gate 
arching  the  main  road,  the  shelter  of  a  room  or  two  built 
on  either  side,  —  the  toll-collector's  cottage  and  barn  in 
days  gone  by.  The  building  would  have  been  hardly  dis- 
cernible in  the  darkness  but  for  a  blacksmith  shop  just 
beyond.  The  wide-open  door  of  this  wayside  smithy  cast 
a  broad  band  9f  light  across  the  road,  making  the  older 
building  stand  out  in  strong  relief.  From  inside  the  shop 
came  the  ring  of  the  smith's  hammer,  muffled  on  the  damp 
air. 

Thallon's  hopes  had  fallen  to  the  lowest  depths,  when 
a  sharp  exclamation  of  Dan's  brought  his  eyes  from  the 
stronger  light  to  that  side  of  the  toll-gate  in  deepest  shadow. 


520  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

Something  had  moved,  had  detached  itself  a  moment  from 
the  line  of  wall,  then  sunk  back  again,  afraid  to  cross  the 
light. 

Before  the  carryall  could  be  drawn  up  at  the  roadside, 
Thallon  was  striding  through  the  rain  toward  the  spot. 
The  storm  had  lulled  perceptibly,  the  wind  at  last  had 
fallen.  He  did  not  dare  to  call  her  name  for  fear  of  attract- 
ing attention  in  the  shop  beyond.  The  dull  clink  of  iron 
upon  iron  seemed  to  find  an  echo  in  his  brain,  the  blood  in 
his  temples  kept  in  horrible  rhythm  with  it  as  he  pushed 
on  doggedly.  He  was  almost  up  with  her,  his  hand  was 
almost  on  her  sleeve,  when  she  turned  and  faced  him. 

She  must  have  been  running  since  hearing  the  sound 
of  wheels,  for  her  words  were  labored,  breathless,  pathetic 
enough,  without  that,  to  have  cut  the  man  who  heard  them 
like  a  knife. 

"  Oh,  why  have  you  followed  me, — you  of  all  men  —  " 

He  stood  stock  still  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  stunned  by 
the  force  of  this  unexpected  blow,  yet  he  noted  the  confes- 
sion as  well  as  the  reproach  in  her  \vords. 

"  I  came  to  help  you,"  he  said  confusedly. 

"  How  can  you  of  all  the  world  help  me  ?  "  she  retorted 
vehemently,  one  hand  clutching  the  shawl  together  at  her 
throat,  the  other  raised,  as  if  in  protest.  "  You  are  my 
greatest  danger,  you  know  it  only  too  well." 

"  Not  true ! "  he  returned,  flushing  hotly,  for  she  had 
roused  the  man  in  him.  "  I  could  have  given  you  up 
before  to-night  without  a  word,  —  but  not  now.  No,  by 
Heaven,  not  now !  " 

His  square  jaw  was  hard  set.  He  drew  her  unresisting 
under  the  shelter  of  the  overhanging  roof.  The  light  of 
the  forge  fire  flared  up,  and  for  an  instant  played  on  the 
opposite  wall.  Some  reflection  of  it  made  her  face  stand 
out  with  startling  distinctness  against  the  black  background 
of  the  night.     A  change  crept  over  it  as  he  spoke ;  drawn 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS  52 1 

and  white  it  was  still,  but  no  longer  defiant.  She  clutched 
the  arm  he  held  toward  her  as  if  for  support. 

"How  did  you  know?"  she  asked,  keeping  her  voice 
steady  by  great  effort. 

He  mistook  her  meaning. 

"  Know  it.?  I've  known  it  ever  since  I've  known  you," 
he  cried,  deep  passion  creeping  into  his  voice,  "  and  should 
have  known  it  could  have  but  one  ending.  And  yet  I've 
stood  by  and  let  him  crush  the  young  life  out  of  you  as 
he  pleased,  —  I,  who  could  have  brought  him  to  his  knees 
by  a  word.  But  why  waste  a  thought  on  him.  You  are 
free.  Yes,  I  tell  you,  free,  and  I  have  learned  to  wait, 
even  for  what  was  mine  by  right." 

"  Hush  !  For  God's  sake,  hush  !  "  she  broke  in,  fright- 
ened by  the  torrent  of  his  words  into  renewed  protest, 
though  her  own  heart  had  slipped  its  leash,  and  was  bid- 
ding defiance  to  her  will.  "  What  could  you  have  done 
that  would  not  injure  me  beyond  reparation.  What  are 
you  doing  now  but  what  will  make  the  future  harder  for 
me,  —  a  thousand  times  harder  than  if  — "  she  paused 
abruptly,  for  she  could  not  tell  him  the  untruth  that 
might  have  made  him  leave  her.  No  !  Whatever  came,  — 
whatever  the  future  held  in  store  for  her,  —  she  was  glad, 
yes,  to  the  bottom  of  her  storm-tossed  heart  she  was  glad 
that  she  had  known  and  loved  him. 

She  tried  to  withdraw  the  hand  he  held  between  his  own 
hot  fingers.  He  saw  in  her  eyes  what  she  had  kept  her 
lips  from  telling  by  that  last  supreme  effort. 

"You  do  not  believe  yourself,"  he  cried  exultantly. 
"How  can  I  injure  you,  I,  who  owe  you  everything.' 
Surely  you  cannot  understand.  You,  who  have  taught 
me  how  to  think,  to  grow,  to  live,  cannot  throw  me  aside 
as  if  I  had  never  been.  Why  have  I  kept  silence  until  now 
but  that  I  would  not  add  a  feather-weight  to  the  burden  you 
had  to  carry  .?    But  now,  when  you  no  longer  bear  it,  —  when 


522  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

by  right  of  every  law,  human  and  divine,  you  cast  it  from 
you,  have  I  no  right  to  one  small  word  ?  Oh,  my  brave, 
strong  heart,  —  I,  who  have  so  much  more  than  merely 
loved  you,  cannot  I  love  you  still  without  spoiling  your  life  ? 
I  ask  no  more  now,  —  no,  not  now.  Let  the  rest  come 
with  the  coming  years,  when  all  these  bitter  memories 
shall  be  softened.  Don't  let  another's  sin  blast  both  our 
lives." 

It  was  an  answer  to  the  cry  that  had  sprung  from  her 
own  breast  in  that  first  hour  of  liberty.  And  she  yielded. 
For  one  moment  of  blind  intoxication  she  bent  before  the 
storm  of  passion  she  herself  had  roused  in  him.  Yet  she 
was  strangely  conscious  of  what  she  did.  There  was  some- 
thing deliberate,  calmly  deliberate,  in  her  as  she  put  her 
beautiful  ungloved  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  and  looked 
straight  into  his  eyes.  Even  her  words  were  measured, 
though  they  carried  the  emotion  of  a  life. 

"  Right  or  wrong,  I  shall  always  love  you,"  she  said 
steadily,  "whatever  comes." 

He  inhaled  a  deep  breath  as  he  drew  her  to  him  with 
some  passionate  rejoinder. 

Even  in  that  supreme  ecstasy  Margaret  was  conscious 
that  it  could  not  last.  She  had  already  turned  to  look 
anxiously  down  the  main  road,  where  approaching  foot- 
steps were  distinctly  audible.  The  rain  had  nearly  ceased, 
and  sounds  were  more  noticeable.  Dan,  who  was  adjust- 
ing the  headstall  of  his  horses,  moved  impatiently. 

"  One  moment  more,"  Thallon  pleaded,  in  a  quick  under- 
tone;  "they  will  have  passed  in  a  moment." 

"  I  cannot  —  I  must  not  stay,"  she  said  anxiously.  "  Even 
as  it  is,  I  have  said  too  much,  far  too  much.  Oh,  forgive 
me  if  I  have  made  it  harder." 

"  I  shall  never  give  up  hope,  never !  " 

"  Hope  .-*  I  do  not  know,  I  cannot  judge  even  myself. 
I  am  worn  out.     Do  not  ask  more  of  me  now." 


LIGHT   IN   DARKNESS  523 

And  yet,  as  she,  tore  herself  away,  her  eyes  answered 
the  light  that  shone  in  his. 

The  footsteps  had  nearly  reached  the  bend  in  the  road 
now.  Rapid,  yet  easy,  footsteps,  evidently  those  of  a  young 
man  and  a  good  walker.  A  second  later  and  he  was  pass- 
ing through  the  band  of  light  thrown  by  the  smithy  fire. 
Through  the  mist  of  finer  rain  it  touched  a  tall,  graceful 
figure,  which  Margaret  recognized  instantly  as  that  of 
Johann  Meyer,  the  Mill  Preacher. 

She  shrank  back  into  the  deepest  shadow  without  asking 
herself  why.  It  was  not  only  cowardly,  but  useless,  for  he 
could  hardly  pass  them  without  recognition.  She  realized 
this  almost  instantly,  and  spoke  his  name  just  as  he  entered 
the  gate.  She  had  moved  purposely  to  that  side  of  it  where 
the  forge  light  was  more  steady.  She  wished  the  recog- 
nition to  be  mutual,  and  she  had  her  wish. 

He  came  to  an  abrupt  pause,  and  their  eyes  met,  Marga- 
ret reading  the  face  line  for  line,  as  she  might  have  read 
an  open  book.  A  spasm  of  pain,  of  fear,  crossed  it  as  his 
looked  past  her  to  where  Thallon  stood  behind  her,  and 
came  back  again.  Instinctively  she  turned  to  the  younger 
man. 

He  could  hardly  have  refused  such  an  appeal  as  came 
into  her  eyes,  even  had  it  been  made  then  for  the  first  time  ; 
but  he  went  no  farther  than  Doniphan's  carriage,  where  he 
busied  himself  over  the  horses. 

"  I  am  fortunate,"  Meyer  was  saying,  in  that  slow,  care- 
ful English  which  betrayed  the  German  only  in  moments 
of  deep  feeling.  "  Four  hours  ago  you  sent  me  a  message, 
Mrs.  Leverson ;  I  was  on  my  way  just  now  to  answer 
it." 

The  hot  color  leaped  into  the  woman's  face.  He  could 
have  reminded  her  of  nothing  less  welcome  just  then  than 
Louise  Dupr^. 

"  Yes,  I  know  —  about  the  girl.      She  is  safe  ? " 


524  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

She  uttered  the  words  slowly,  one  by  one,  as  if  speech 
were  difficult. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  safe  ?     Safe  from  what  ? " 

He  put  the  question  pitilessly,  yet  his  dark  eyes,  hold- 
ing her  against  her  will,  were  tender.  She  answered  the 
question  because  she  must.  He  had  a  natural  right  to 
ask  it. 

"  Safe  from  death.  I  dreaded  her  death  by  her  own 
hand,"  Margaret  said,  with  a  slight  shudder. 

"  Are  we  ever  safe  against  ourselves,  —  even  our  best 
selves  ?"  he  returned  sadly.  "  For  Louise  Dupr6  I  have 
done  what  I  could,  but  after  all  it  is  very  little.  We 
found  her,  and  I  left  her  in  Mrs.  Raggles's  care  for  a 
night, — yes  —  and  to-morrow  again  the  eternal  question. 
We  must  all  answer  it  for  ourselves." 

"  How  can  we  answer  it }  "  she  cried  passionately,  "  put 
here  as  we  are  to  suffer  without  even  knowing  why." 

"  If  this  life  were  all,  there  could  be  no  answer  to  it," 
he  said  gravely. 

She  threw  out  her  hands  impatiently.  "Yes,  yes,  I 
know  you  believe  that  —  " 

"Yes,  I  believe  that.  We  lay  down  this  life  that  we 
may  take  it  again,  for  what  we  call  life  here  is  such  a 
little  thing,  and  what  we  call  love,  however  true,  however 
tender,  is  such  a  fleeting  shadow  of  the  Love  Eternal." 

He  took  off  his  wide  felt  hat  at  the  last  word,  then,  still 
uncovered,  bowed,  as  he  said  with  a  quick  change  of  man- 
ner :  *'  But  I  detain  you,  madam.  Your  carriage  waits. 
I  am  keeping  you  from  home.     Good  night." 

He  was  already  a  half-dozen  steps  down  the  road 
toward  Brockton,  when  by  a  sudden  impulse  she  sprang 
after  him  and  laid  a  detaining  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  can't  go  back !  "  she  cried,  her  voice  hoarse  with  the 
misery  of  renewed  struggle,  "and  you  know  why.  Yes, 
you  know.     I  read  it  in  your  face  just  now.     No,  I  can't 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS 


525 


go  back.  Why  should  I  bear  this  shame,  this  suffering, 
for  another's  sin  ?  " 

He  looked  down  into  her  upturned  face,  drawn  and 
white  with  agony,  his  own  wistful,  but  firm. 

"Yet  that  is  the  first,  the  very  first  condition  of  our 
being,"  he  said  gently.  "We  suffer  and  judge  not,  that 
we  be  not  judged.  Man  for  man,  woman  for  woman, 
child  for  child,  and  each  for  all.  Sins  of  parentage 
branding  youth ;  sins  of  youth  dragging  down  gray  hairs 
in  sorrow ;  sins  of  the  lawless  member  tainting  the  tribe. 
There  is  no  log^c  in  it,  yet  it  is  a  thing  of  universal  knowl- 
edge, —  an  altruism  that  touches  the  lowest  savage  and 
the  noblest  saint.  The  answer  is  not  here.  We  must  take 
the  task  given  us  to  do,  and  do  it  without  knowing  why." 

"  I  am  always  asking  why  !  "  she  cried  passionately. 

"  And  receive  no  answer !  Well,  what  then .?  Do  you 
believe  that  the  Redeemer  on  His  cross  knew  why  He  was 
asked  to  die  ?  I  doubt  it.  There  was  no  justice  in  it,  — 
no  logic,  from  any  human  point  of  view,  —  has  never  been 
and  never  will  be  any,  —  yet  when  the  order  came  down 
the  line  He  obeyed." 

"  Obey  !  What  voice  bids  me  sanction  sin  ?  Not  the 
voice  of  God,  —  not  the  voice  of  Christ !  " 

The  words,  though  steady,  vibrated  with  the  girl's  intense 
emotion.  She  had  forgotten  all  about  the  man  she  spoke 
to,  as  he  would  have  had  her  do.  His  eyes  were  all  com- 
prehending, his  mouth  firm  in  spite  of  its  latent  tenderness, 
—  as  he  answered  quietly :  — 

"  Christ  does  not  ask  you  to  sanction  sm,  but  to  shame 
it,  even  as  He  shamed  it.  When  the  time  comes  for  you 
to  turn  your  back  upon  it  He  will  let  you  know, — but  it  has 
not  come  now,  nor  will  it  come  in  this  way.  He  asks  you 
to  bear  no  more  than  He  Himself  has  borne.  Go  back, 
even  with  bleeding  feet  along  the  beaten  path  of  human 
suffering,  to  His  own  simplicity,  —  doing  the  will  of  His 


526  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

Father  as  He  did  it,  and  you  have  learned  to  know  your 
Lord." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  know  you  believe  in  blind  obedience." 

Her  spirit  was  bent  near  to  breaking,  but  she  resisted 
to  the  last. 

"  No,  no ;  you  do  not  understand,"  he  urged  anxiously. 
"  When  we  reach  the  limit  of  our  knowledge  we  have 
faith,  but  faith  need  not  be  blind.  When  we  can  no  longer 
say  '  we  know '  we  use  the  word  belief,  and  even  so  believe 
that  this  tearing  apart  of  our  own  heartstrings  is  that  He 
may  knit  together  the  great  heart  of  the  world.  We  do 
not  seek  martyrdom,  but  when  it  comes  to  us  we  wiUingly 
drink  of  the  cup  He  drank  of,  knowing  that  above  us  all 
God  reigns,  and  that  underneath  are  the  Everlasting  Arms." 

Calm  as  the  voice  was,  the  appeal  in  it  moved  her  un- 
speakably. Meyer  had,  however,  evidently  reached  the  end 
of  what  he  had  to  say.  Hours  of  talk  could  not  have 
made  his  meaning  clearer  to  her. 

As  he  paused,  the  sound  of  hoof-beats  was  audible  on 
the  wet  road  from  the  direction  of  Brockton,  Impatient 
of  further  delay,  Thallon  had  left  the  horses  and  was 
approaching  them  from  the  other  side.  He  reached  them 
just  as  a  mud-splashed  buggy  dashed  past  toward  Elm- 
hurst.  Just  beyond  a  sharp  call  from  the  waiting  carryall 
brought  it  to  a  standstill. 

"Lindley!"  Thallon  muttered  gloomily;  "and  toward 
Elmhurst  too.     What  does  that  mean  }  " 

Hearing  the  wheels,  the  smith  had  come  to  his  forge 
door  to  look  and  listen.  They  could  hear  voices  between 
the  two  vehicles  farther  down  the  road.  Both  voices  were 
familiar;  one  Lindley's,  the  other  Doniphan's.  Meyer, 
with  an  anxious  exclamation,  had  hurried  down  the  road 
toward  them.  Margaret  and  Thallon  exchanged  a  quick 
glance  of  intelligence. 

For  a  moment  —  only  a  moment  —  as  she  stood  there 


LIGHT   IN   DARKNESS  527 

with  the  man  she  loved,  and  the  freedom  of  the  wild  night 
all  about  her,  she  wavered.  Then  the  fire  died  out  of 
her  eyes,  and  a  softer  light  came  into  them  as  she  said 
steadily :  — 

"  I'm  going  back !  '* 

He  looked  at  her  in  a  bewildered  way,  trying  to  stifle  the 
groan  that  had  risen  to  his  lips.  He  had  been  so  sure  of 
obtaining  what  he  had  asked,  and  he  had  asked  so  little. 

"  How  dared  he  come  between  us !  "  he  burst  out  angrily. 
"  What  does  a  man  like  that  know  of  a  life  like  yours  ? 
Who  gave  him  the  right  to  speak  ? " 

"  I,"  she  said  quietly  ;  "  but  it  is  not  Johann  Meyer  who 
comes  between  us.  Listen  !  "  and  she  poured  into  his  ear 
a  torrent  of  eager  words.  She  was  so  anxious  he  should 
understand. 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  man  that,  even  in  that  mo- 
ment of  supreme  trial,  he  did  not  tell  her  what  he  had 
planned  to  do  for  her,  would  do  now  if  this  thing  were 
true.  Only  once,  as,  standing  in  that  deep  darkness,  she 
drew  down  the  flushed,  angry  face  so  near  her  own  and 
kissed  the  hot  forehead,  only  then  did  he  burst  out  in  one 
last  appeal. 

"  What  claim  can  be  stronger  than  mine  ?  If  this  part- 
ing were  for  your  own  sake,  for  your  own  happiness ;  but 
I  ask  nothing  now.  Only  hope  for  the  dim  future.  Oh, 
Margaret,  Margaret !  " 

She  drew  her  hands  away.  What  hurt  him  now  would  help 
him  later  if  this  thing  were  right.  She  must  do  nothing  she 
would  regret  to  look  back  on  through  the  coming  years. 

"  Hope  !  Yes,  I  hope,"  she  said  with  infinite  sadness, 
"  but  not  as  you  would  have  me.  My  life  was  laid  out 
before  I  ever  met  you,  and  such  love  as  yours  was  not  — 
never  could  be  —  in  it  after  that.  This  much  for  your 
comfort,  coming  into  it  as  you  have,  too  late  to  make  it 
happy,  not  too  late  to  make  it  stronger.     If  I  yielded  to 


528  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

you  now  it  would  be  neither.  You  could  not  make  me 
really  happy.  Remember  that,  and  give  others  happiness 
who  have  a  right  to  it." 

She  broke  off,  the  cry  in  her  heart  stifling  speech.  "  Oh, 
my  life !  my  love  !  I  do  not  love  you  less  because  I  give 
you  up,  but  only  more — more  —  more,"  it  wept,  as  she 
hacked  at  its  quivering  roots  and  cut  herself  adrift  from 
it  forever. 

Outwardly  she  was  calm  to  coldness ;  she  moved  away 
from  him  abruptly,  for  the  Doctor  and  Doniphan,  coming 
on  foot  down  the  road,  were  almost  upon  them.  Both 
looked  worried,  Lindley  distinctly  nervous,  as  he  came 
forward  and  took  Margaret's  arm  affectionately. 

"We've  just  had  a  message  from  Elmhurst,  Mrs.  Lever- 
son,"  he  began,  drawing  her  hand  through  his  arm  with 
that  little  protective  pat  common  to  him. 

Margaret  stopped  short;  her  hold  on  his  arm  tight- 
ened. 

"  There's  been  an  accident .-' "  she  said,  in  a  strangely 
level  voice. 

Lindley  looked  grateful  for  her  help. 

"  Not  exactly  that.  It's  an  outrage  of  the  Dupr6s',  I 
fear.  There  was  giant  powder  mixed  with  the  coal  in 
Leverson's  grate." 

Margaret  shuddered,  Doniphan  broke  in  almost 
brusquely :  — 

"  No,  he  was  not  killed  ;  and  that  being  so,  the  chances 
are  in  his  favor.  We  cannot  give  you  any  details ;  we're 
hurrying  there  now.  I  was  at  Lindley's  when  they  wired. 
You  must  prepare  yourself,  my  dear  girl,  for  something 
serious.  There's  no  question  if,  as  Morgan  says,  he  got 
the  charge  in  his  face,  but  that  he's  blind  for  life." 

It  was  perfectly  evident,  through  all  his  roughness,  that 
he  had  a  purpose  in  telling  her  this  now. 

She  rose  to  the  situation,  as  he  knew  she  would. 


LIGHT  IN   DARKNESS  529 

"  Hurry,  hurry !  "  she  urged.  "  I  will  go  back  with 
Dr.  Lindley  if  I  may,  only  hurry ! " 

Thallon  had  fallen  back,  but  she  turned  to  him,  there 
before  the  two  older  men,  and  held  out  her  hand  in  her 
old  frank  way. 

"  Mr.  Doniphan  must  be  as  good  a  friend  to  you,  Mr. 
Thallon,  as  you  have  been  to  me.    Good  night,  and  good-by." 

Thallon  watched  her  disappear  into  the  darkness  on 
the  Doctor's  arm,  that  last  touch  of  her  hand  warm  in  his. 
A  moment  later  the  old  buggy  rattled  off  down  the  road 
toward  Elmhurst. 

He  never  saw  her  face  again,  and  he  never  loved  any 
other  woman.  Through  all  the  years  he  carried  the  pic- 
ture of  that  face  as  he  saw  it  then,  —  as  if  transformed :  A 
face  no  longer  convulsed,  no  longer  tempest-tossed,  but 
beautifully  calm  and  still. 

He  learned  as  those  years  went  by  that  she  had  been 
right,  but  he  was  very  far  from  knowing  it  then,  as  he 
stood  with  Doniphan  in  the  slowly  falling  rain. 

They  were  quite  alone.  Meyer,  without  speaking  again, 
had  gone  on  toward  Elmhurst  on  foot.  Doniphan  spoke 
first,  rather  aggressively :  — 

"  Your  last  two  moves  not  having  been  successful,  what 
are  you  going  to  do  now } " 

"Going  back  to  the  Everett." 

"  Good !  Wait  there  for  me.  I  must  go  to  Elmhurst 
first.  I  can't  take  this  thing  on  hearsay,  and,  besides,  I 
want  to  be  with  her  for  a  while." 

Thallon  came  toward  him,  his  eyes  shining.  "  It's  your 
privilege,"  he  said  a  little  wistfully.  "  Well,  before  you 
condemn  my  moves,  remember  I  asked  no  more  of  her 
than  that —     Well,  never  mind —     Good  night." 

Doniphan  caught  his  arm  as  he  was  turning  away. 

"You  still  intend  to  maintain  the  status  quo  with 
Lever  son  } " 

2M 


530  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  More  than  ever.  I  left  Elmhurst  with  my  trump  card 
within  reach  of  the  other  man's  hand,  face  up  on  the 
table." 

Doniphan  started.  "  I  thought  you  wanted  some  defi- 
nite guarantee .-' " 

"Well,  I  thought  I  had  it  then,  and  that  his  power  to 
hurt  her  ended  when  she  left  him.  I  know  I  have  it  now. 
If  this  news  is  true,  Ashton  Leverson's  days  for  injuring 
any  one  are  gone  by,  —  poor  devil!  " 

For  the  moment  Doniphan  forgot  Thallon.  He  was 
thinking  of  a  blind  wreck  of  a  man  waited  on  by  a  small 
army  of  servants,  nurses,  and  doctors.  He  thought  of 
the  man  as  he  had  known  him  in  his  strength,  —  broken  in 
a  moment,  chained,  curbed,  helpless,  —  and  he  shuddered 
slightly. 

Thallon  must  have  guessed  what  was  passing  in  his 
mind,  for  he  observed  combatively :  — 

"Yes!     But  he'll  have  her." 

"And  we  shan't,"  Doniphan  remarked,  looking  him  in 
the  eye.  "  That  being  so,  shall  I  find  you  at  the  Everett 
ready  to  be  taken  back  to  the  Hill  Farm  .<'  You  know  I've 
work  for  you  when  you're  ready  for  it.  Shall  we  count  it 
settled  .? " 

Thallon  hesitated  a  moment  before  he  answered :  — 

"  Yes." 

His  voice  was  husky,  but  there  was  no  other  sign  of 
emotion  about  him. 


EPILOGUE 

Eight  months  later,  on  a  raw  March  afternoon,  two 
men  sat  facing  each  other  across  the  editorial  desk  of  the 
Transcript.  The  Transcript' s  new  proprietor  and  its 
equally  new  managing  editor  Vere  not  discussing  sub- 
scription lists  nor  the  net  profits  of  the  first  three  months, 
and  yet  they  were  very  much  absorbed. 

"If  we  were  dealing  with  our  old  line  labor  leaders," 
Doniphan  was  saying  with  a  spice  of  malice,  "  I  should 
know  my  ground.  They  were  not  overburdened  with 
principle  and  were  ready  enough  to  take  advantage  of 
lawlessness,  but  when  it  came  time  to  negotiate  they  knew 
what  they  had  been  fighting  for  and  what  they  were  willing 
to  do.  With  them  it  was  usually  a  mere  matter  of  hours 
and  wages,  but  now,  with  this  strike  three  months  old,  we 
haven't  been  informed  as  yet  what  it's  all  about.  On  one 
side  we  have  a  '  Central  Committee '  and  a  '  President '  who 
issue  orders  from  some  sylvan  retreat,  say  five  hundred 
miles  west  of  here ;  on  the  other  we  have  the  mysterious 
deity  of  the  Great  Combine,  enshrined  somewhere  in  its 
New  York  office,  and  to  both  of  these  powers  that  be  little 
Brockton  is  no  more  than  an  advanced  skirmish  line ;  may 
be  captured  and  recaptured  half  a  dozen  times  before  the 
war's  over,  and  when  our  Peace  Congress  meets,  be  tossed 
into  the  scale  one  way  or  the  other  as  a  mere  bagatelle. 
We're  told  now,  —  save  the  mark!  — that  it's  no  longer  a 
question  of  wages,  but  a  question  of  recognition.  Recog- 
nition of  what }     Of  an  organization  which  cannot  or  will 

53» 


532  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

not  hold  its  own  members  inside  the  law !  Owen  Thallon, 
this  thing  is  getting  beyond  our  ken  very  rapidly." 

The  man's  tone  was  light,  almost  flippant,  but  he  was 
speaking  to  another  man  who  knew  him,  —  knew  that  at 
forty  Doniphan  had  given  up  an  assured  success  in  litera- 
ture to  undertake  a  work  he  believed  lay  nearer  to  hand, 
and  that  now,  at  fifty-two,  after  years  of  comparative  suc- 
cess, he  was  acknowledging  that  modern  conditions  had 
grown  too  strong  for  him.  Thallon  saw  clearly  he  could 
offer  him  no  direct  sympathy  without  offence.  He  showed 
it  the  only  way  he  dared,  by  saying :  — 

"  Your  resignation  from  the  Brotherhood  was  the  only 
course  open  to  you.  When  they  shifted  their  ground  from 
demands  that  were  entirely  right  to  demands  that  were 
entirely  wrong,  the  time  came  to  drop  out.  But  we're  not 
washing  our  hands  of  the  affair.  We  have  the  same  in- 
terests every  decent  citizen  ought  to  have ;  not  working 
for  either  side,  but  for  law  and  order ;  sweet  commentary 
on  the  times  we  live  in.  Questions  of  right,  questions  of 
decent  fairness,  of  simplest  justice  put  on  the  shelf,  while 
we  fight  for  the  fundamental  principle  of  civilization. 
Putting  the  clock  back  nine  hundred  years.  Yes,  it  is 
discouraging." 

"  And  my  men,  my  very  best  men,  are  in  it,"  Doniphan 
put  in  bitterly.  "  No,  not  all,  —  and  even  if  it  were  so,  why 
blame  them  without  taking  into  account  the  pressure  put 
on  them  by  the  curse  of  class  hatred.  After  twelve  years 
of  service  in  the  cause  of  labor,  honest  labor,  they  have 
put  me  under  the  boycott  —  made  it  a  dangerous  thing  to 
speak  to  me.    Well,  I  may  be  dangerous  before  I'm  through." 

Doniphan  got  up  from  his  chair  and  moved  restlessly 
over  to  the  office  window,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
old  Town  Hall,  with  its  fenced-in  patch  of  worn  grass  and 
the  bounding  streets,  forming  what  was  known  as  Town 
Hall  Square. 


EPILOGUE  533 

It  was  characteristic  of  the  two  men  that  they  had  merely 
exchanged  a  glance,  though  it  had  been  a  critical  moment, 
covering  an  offer  of  release  from  Doniphan  and  its  rejec- 
tion by  Thallon.  The  elder  man,  though  an  idealist  to  his 
finger  tips,  had  never  been  emotional,  and  for  the  younger, 
all  emotion  had  died  out  on  a  summer  evening  eight 
months  before. 

"I've  done  what  I  could,"  the  Managing  Editor  remarked, 
as  he  sharpened  a  lead  pencil,  "  to  unite  the  opinion  of  one 
small  town  in  favor  of  its  own  obvious  interests,  with  the 
usual  success.  We  all  know  the  next  move  of  the  Com- 
pany will  be  the  removal  of  the  Works  to  Harrisburg.  We 
are  all  agreed  that  we  ought  to  keep  them,  but  hopelessly 
disagreed  as  to  the  best  means  of  doing  so.  The  remedy 
of  that  small  portion  of  the  well-to-do  who  dare  to  speak  at 
all  is  unconditional  surrender  to  the  Company.  The  highly 
intelligent  remedy  of  the  other  extreme  is  to  burn  down  the 
plant  before  we  let  them  take  it.  I'm  hoping  for  some- 
thing rational  halfway  between  to  work  upon." 

"  Yes,  if  they  only  give  us  time,"  Doniphan  returned 
thoughtfully.  "  I  fear  their  move  is  coming  very  soon,  and 
then  we've  got  civil  war.  That's  what  I  dread  worst.  The 
loss  of  the  Works  by  violence  cuts  off  my  pet  scheme, — 
the  buying  in  of  the  plant  at  a  figure  and  the  organization 
of  a  new  local  Company." 

Thallon  smiled  a  very  kindly  smile. 

"To  be  run  on  the  cooperative  plan,  —  yes,  I  know,"  he 
said. 

"  It  might  have  been  done,"  Doniphan  went  on,  "  but 
this,  if  it  comes,  ruins  it.  You  can't  cooperate  with  sav- 
ages." 

"  Especially  against  combinations  like  Senator  Gil- 
breed's.  You  couldn't  make  it  live  five  minutes.  You'd 
be  hounded  to  death  by  the  Union  and  buried  by  the  Great 
Combine.     There  are  giants  in  these  days." 


534  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  believe  I  could  do  it,"  Doniphan  muttered,  the  fierce 
light  of  battle  creeping  into  his  tired  eyes.  "  I'd  make 
them  see." 

"  I  hear  that  Whitelaw's  on  the  citizens'  committee  of 
protest  against  the  removal,"  Thallon  remarked,  smiling. 
"Quite  like  him,  isn't  it.?" 

"  Very,  though  yon  can't  say  much.  You  gave  them  all 
their  lease  of  life  when  you  signed  that  infernal  paper  in 
Whitelaw's  office  six  months  ago.  Why  complain  that  they 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  their  labors,  fruits  useful  at  least  as 
labels  ?  They  enable  us  to  know  them.  Whitelaw  on  his 
citizens'  committee ;  the  Honorable  Senator  from  Penn- 
sylvania busy  in  Washington  with  bills  for  curbing  the 
'  money  power,'  that  is,  injuring  legitimate  business,  and 
lastly,  Leverson.     Ah,  as  to  him,  we'll  say  nothing." 

"  And  she ! "  The  thought  sprang  into  the  younger 
man's  mind,  but  he  choked  it  down.  He  knew  Doniphan 
had  letters,  but  he  never  asked  to  see  them,  and  the  other 
never  offered.  Doniphan  saw  his  face  now  and  veered  to 
other  things  in  his  easy  way. 

"  I  hear  Meyer's  losing  ground  fast  since  he  put  himself 
into  our  company.  He  doesn't  admit  it,  but  they  say  his 
Church  has  dwindled  to  nothing.  I  suppose  they're  spe- 
cially bitter  against  him  because  he  wears  a  workman's 
clothes  and  that  marks  him  for  a  traitor.  He  looks  badly  ; 
I  saw  him  yesterday." 

Thallon's  jaw  stiffened  at  Doniphan's  mention  of  the 
name.  "  I  wouldn't  worry  about  Meyer,"  he  said  carelessly. 
"  His  class  are  fond  of  urging  martyrdom  upon  women 
and  children,  but  in  recent  years  they  haven't  themselves 
blocked  the  shambles.  My  own  idea  is,  that  when  Brock- 
ton gets  too  hot  for  this  representative  of  it,  he'll  simplify 
the  situation  by  betaking  himself  to  parts  unknown." 

Doniphan  glanced  over  at  his  prot6g6  a  little  reproach- 
fully. 


EPILOGUE  535 

"  That's  not  quite  worthy  of  you,  Owen,"  he  remarked 
judicially.  "  Whatever  else  you  do,  don't  get  bitter,  espe- 
cially over  imaginary  wrongs.  Once,  when  this  man's  path 
crossed  yours,  he  did  right.  Don't  blame  him  because  you 
suffer  for  it." 

Thallon  made  no  reply,  and  presently  they  went  down- 
stairs together.  It  had  been  his  to  bring  the  subject  up, 
and  it  was  his  to  drop  it  Down  deep  in  his  heart  he 
knew  it  was  better  so. 

As  they  reached  the  street  Dr.  Lindley's  buggy  was  just 
drawing  up  at  the  curb.  Before  parting  for  the  day  they 
went  across  the  sidewalk  to  speak  to  him. 

"  Any  news  ? "  Doniphan  asked,  as  he  patted  the  mare's 
polished  flank. 

Lindley  lowered  his  head  and  his  voice  at  the  same 
time. 

"  Yes.  I  had  it  from  Gillis  as  I  left  the  hospital,  that 
a  squad  of  police  were  sent  quietly  down  to  the  Works  half 
an  hour  ago.  They're  landing  a  gang  of  men  from  the 
river  side  now.  That  means  the  removal  of  the  machinery 
to-night,  doesn't  it .''  " 

Doniphan  shook  his  head  incredulously. 

"  I  hafdly  believe  it !  The  Union's  had  the  place  pick- 
eted for  weeks.  It  couldn't  be  breathed  without  their 
knowledge.  If  it  were  known,  the  town  would  be  on 
fire." 

"  It  is  known,  and  the  town  is  on  fire, — to  my  think- 
ing," the  Doctor  said,  with  one  of  his  shrewd  twinkles. 
"Sometimes  there's  fire  without  blaze.  Just  notice  the 
movement  in  the  crowd  on  this  side  of  the  square,  es- 
pecially by  the  Everett." 

Doniphan  turned,  as  Thallon  had  already  turned,  to 
glance  down  the  side  of  the  square  on  which  they  stood. 
It  was  not  so  densely  crowded  as  it  often  was  of  a  Satur- 
day afternoon.     Small  groups  of  men,  not  more  than  four 


536  THE  BEATEN  PATH 

or  five  in  each,  were  moving  at  a  moderate  pace  along  the 
flagged  sidewalk.  They  varied  greatly  in  garb,  from  over- 
alls to  cutaways ;  but  most  of  them  had  that  peculiarity 
of  gait  which  belongs  to  the  manual  worker.  Some  were 
talking  in  low  tones,  some  grimly  silent;  but  there  was 
nothing  about  them  to  arrest  particular  attention,  save  the 
curious  circumstance  that  they  wer^  all  moving  in  the  same 
direction. 

One  or  two  had  furtively  touched  their  hats  or  caps  to 
Doniphan  in  passing ;  more,  perhaps,  had  scowled  at  him 
and  his  companions ;  but  the  great  majority  passed  by  un- 
seeing. These  were  the  best-trained  men  in  their  organi- 
zation ;  many  of  them  were  of  Doniphan's  own  training. 
There  was  something  grim  about  his  face  as  he  looked  at 
them  squarely,  —  but  there  was  no  class  hatred  in  it,  —  if  it 
held  any  challenge  at  all,  it  was  the  challenge  of  man  to 
man  —  equal  to  equal. 

"  There  are  troops  in  Harrisburg,"  Thallon  was  saying 
to  the  Doctor,  "but  they  could  hardly  be  got  here  in  time." 

"  How  absurd ! "  Doniphan  exclaimed  half  angrily.  "  How 
many  are  we  all  told  ?  Three  here,  and  we  can  count  on 
half  a  dozen  more.  A  show  of  force  might  bring  on  the 
crisis.  They  simply  can't  ignore  an  appeal  to  reason. 
Where  is  Meyer.?" 

"  Saw  him  ten  minutes  ago,"  the  Doctor  answered,  "on 
his  way  to  the  Works." 

Doniphan  turned  an  amused  face  toward  Thallon.  The 
quirk  in  his  crooked  mouth  was  very  prominent. 

"  Sacrificial  in  spite  of  all  your  theories,"  he  remarked, 
with  a  chuckle,  "  and,  by  George,  he's  right !  The  place  to 
meet  them  is  the  place  of  attack.  Lindley,  you've  got  to 
get  us  there.     Nothing  outstrips  Nell  the  Peerless." 

Five  minutes  later  they  were  bowling  over  a  hard  road 
in  the  teeth  of  a  keen  March  wind.  All  three  relapsed  into 
silence,  for  each  man  knew  that  this  thing  was  serious. 


EPILOGUE 


537 


To  the  Doctor  and  Thallon  it  was  at  best  a  forlorn  hope. 
Doniphan  would  not  let  himself  look  at  it  in  that  way.  He 
had,  perhaps,  done  no  more  in  this  cause  than  Lindley ; 
but  in  him  it  had  struck  its  root  deeper,  there  had  been  so 
many  years  when  it  had  been  first  with  him. 

Keeping,  as  they  did,  to  the  back  streets,  they  encoun- 
tered little  or  no  crowd,  and  therefore  the  scene  that  met 
them  as  they  emerged  abruptly  upon  the  space  immediately 
surrounding  the  old  Leverson  Works  was  all  the  more 
startling. 

A  nearly  solid  block  of  heads  and  shoulders  filled  the 
entire  space  of  the  street  itself,  and  overflowed  into  the 
acre  or  two  of  yard  that  lay  between  the  factories  and 
the  creek. 

Until  the  last  ten  minutes  this  yard  had  been  fenced  off 
from  the  street  by  a  six-foot  paling  fence.  This  fence  was 
now  distributed  in  pieces  of  convenient  size  amongst  the 
crowd  —  a  circumstance  as  suggestive  to  Doniphan  and 
his  companions  as  the  sight  of  blood. 

It  was,  in  fact,  not  unlike  a  taste  of  blood  to  an  angry 
animal,  this  partition  of  their  opponent's  splintered  prop- 
erty amongst  the  attacking  party.  All  heads  were  cran- 
ing forward  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  side  entrance  of  the 
Works,  where,  at  the  head  of  a  short  flight  of  stone  steps, 
a  man  was  speaking. 

The  sun,  now  far  down  in  the  west,  cast  a  flood  of  warm, 
rich  color  on  the  weather-stained  brick  wall  behind  him, 
and  bathed  the  figure  itself  in  a  glory.  He  had  never  been 
more  beautiful  than  as  he  stood  there  facing  death  —  never 
more  like  his  Master. 

"We're  over  late  to  help  him,"  Thallon  said,  in  an  under- 
tone to  Lindley  ;  "  and  what's  as  bad,  we're  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  crowd." 

Doniphan  looked  up  after  an  instant's  thought. 

"Stay  here  with  Lindley,"  he  said  crisply,  to  Thallon. 


538  THE   BEATEN   PATH 

"  I  can  worm  my  way  through,  and  when  I'm  through,  I'm 
of  more  use  than  a  regiment.  This  is  not  Meyer's  crowd. 
He's  too  serious.  If  /  can't  do  anything  with  them,  then 
life's  a  failure." 

Before  they  could  expostulate,  he  had  slipped  out  of  the 
buggy,  and  the  crowd  had  swallowed  him.  For  some  dis- 
tance Thallon  could  see  him  threading  his  way  among 
broad  backs  and  shoulders ;  and  from  a  guffaw  or  two  he 
knew  the  little  man  was  using  his  powers  of  humor  to 
lighten  the  atmosphere  as  he  went  along.  Then  they 
lost  sight  of  him,  and  Nell  becoming  restless  amid  the 
increasing  noise,  Lindley  retired  in  search  of  a  hitching 
post,  and  Thallon  watched  alone. 

He  could  still  hear  Meyer's  voice,  now  and  then,  even 
its  tone  of  stern  protest,  but  the  din  immediately  about 
him  made  it  impossible  to  follow  the  words.  But  there 
was  no  reassurance  in  his  mind  as  to  the  situation.  The 
work  of  the  Company's  men,  of  loading  some  lighter 
machinery  on  the  four  or  five  barges  that  had  lain  at  the 
wharf,  had  been  interrupted  by  the  destruction  of  the  fence. 
The  barges  had  already  been  pulled  out  some  distance 
into  the  stream,  and  their  crews  and  the  laborers  had 
taken  refuge  inside  the  building.  It  was  the  production 
of  these  objectionable  people  that  the  crowd  outside  had 
been  vociferously  demanding  of  the  thin  blue  line  of  police 
and  the  half-dozen  citizens  who  defended  the  various 
entrances. 

Thallon  glanced  about  him  in  despair.  Meyer's  voice 
was  holding  its  own  against  great  odds.  That  portion  of 
the  mob  nearest  him  was  still  listening  and  kept  the  rest 
back,  but  they  would  not,  Thallon  knew,  listen  much 
longer. 

"  I  say,  he's  played  the  pious  act  most  too  long,  he 
has,"  a  burly  forgeman  remarked  with  a  grin.  "  Wasn't 
he  in  wid  the  swells,  —  Leverson's  crowd  an'  all  ?     What's 


EPILOGUE  539 

he  done  wid  them  pickin's,  let  alone  wot  he  got  out  o'  the 
fools  as  paid  him  for  runnin'  his  Church.  Salted  down,  I 
reckon,  where  you  won't  git  it  agin  in  a  hurry,  nuther." 

"  He's  made  piles,  he  has,"  whined  a  wizened  little  man 
—  Rough  Raggles  by  name.  "He  was  ullus  askin'  for 
subscriptions  widout  runnin'  no  reg'lar  Church.  There 
weren't  no  real  religeeon  in  him  enyway.  Ain't  he  paid 
for  bein'  here  now,  blast  him  !  " 

"  He  got  blarsted  little  out  o'  you,  yer  old  sucker,"  piped 
the  high  treble  of  the  Whelp,  from  the  lower  branch  of  a 
tree.  "  Hollo !  there's  Squire  Doniphan ;  wot's  he  got  ter 
say .? " 

Amid  the  general  coarse  laughter  every  one  turned  to 
look.  Doniphan  had,  in  fact,  reached  the  steps,  and  was 
mounting  them  behind  the  thin  blue  line  that  had  opened 
to  receive  him.  The  mob  nearest  him  had  surged  forward 
as  Meyer  ceased  speaking,  a  movement  checked  only  by 
this  new  apparition  that  for  the  moment  held  their  attention. 

Thallon  began  to  edge  his  way  toward  the  steps,  not  as 
Doniphan  had  done,  by  delicate  finesse,  but  by  sheer  brute 
force.  He  had  not  gone  ten  feet  before  he  faced  a  wall 
of  angry  faces  and  clinched  fists.  He  fell  back  before 
the  force  of  numbers  and  was  still  sullenly  giving  way, 
when  a  woman's  voice  said,  almost  in  his  ear :  — 

"Keep  quiet  an'  foller  me  lamblike.  They  knows  me 
for  no  lover  of  the  Leverson  Works.  They'll  go  up  in 
smoke  this  day,  thank  Goud,  but  we'll  save  the  Preacher, 
so  help  me !  Come  on  !  Let's  through,  will  ye !  What's 
we  here  fer  anyway  !  " 

From  that  moment  Thallon's  clear  conception  of  what 
was  going  on  left  him, —  left  him,  he  knew  not  how.  He 
only  knew  he  was  swung  into  a  human  vortex  formed  by 
a  human  sea  suddenly  gone  mad.  He  could  no  longer 
see  the  steps,  —  could,  in  fact,  see  nothing  but  a  red  hand- 
kerchief which  was  bound  about  the  head  of  Louise  Dupr^. 


540  THE   BEATEN  PATH 

It  acted  as  a  sort  of  beacon,  to  be  followed  blindly  if  it 
could  be  followed  at  all. 

And  it  led  him  very  near  to  death. 

That  hour  he  heard  for  the  first  time  the  ruthless  cry 
of  an  enraged  mob.  Perhaps  some  fearless  word  dropped 
by  the  last  speaker  had  fired  the  latent  passions  of  the 
beast.  Whatever  it  was,  —  a  roar  of  rage  went  up  from  at 
least  a  thousand  throats.  A  black  mass  of  waving  arms, 
heaving  shoulders,  blanched  faces,  flung  itself  on  the  steps. 
There  was  the  crack  of  a  dozen  pistol  shots.  The  red 
handkerchief  went  down,  trodden  into  the  mud  of  the 
street. 

Thallon  grasped  the  iron  balustrade  and  swung  himself 
into  the  front  rank.  He  had  a  voice  that  could  reach 
even  above  that  din,  for  he  was  of  the  great  Leverson 
stock. 

"  Shame !  shame !  "  he  fairly  roared.  "  Don't  shoot  the 
men  who  —  " 

He  never  finished  the  sentence.  The  angry  spit  of  the 
pistol  balls  seemed  all  about  him.  He  could  see  the 
streaks  of  red  through  the  thick  blue  smoke  and  the  white 
dust,  could  hear  a  babel  of  oaths  and  curses  amid  the 
sound  of  a  dozen  axes  beating  on  sheathed  doors. 

He  seized  a  bale  stick  from  some  hand  beside  him  and 
fought  his  way  to  the  top  step.  As  he  got  there  the 
door  in  front  gave  way  and  the  pent-up  stream  of  humanity 
surged  on  past  him  into  the  building. 

"  Help  me  to  get  him  down  out  of  the  crush,  will  you } " 
It  was  Doniphan  who  spoke,  quite  collectedly  in  spite  of 
torn  clothes  and  dust.  "  And  carry  him  gently,  for  he's 
badly  hurt." 

In  the  Lindley  ground  floor  bedroom  the  Rector  of 
St.  Stephen's  was  bending  over  a  strong,  brave  face  that 
smiled  back  at   him   from   among   Mrs.   Lindley 's   white 


EPILOGUE  541 

pillows.  They  had  brought  the  Evangelist  there,  very 
quietly,  an  hour  or  two  before,  and  now  with  the  fading 
daylight  his  life  was  ebbing  fast.  A  deep  consciousness 
of  what  the  hour  held  for  them  was  written  on  the  stem 
set  faces  of  the  men  about  him. 

Lindley  had  never  seen  the  Rector  so  much  moved  as 
when  he  had  administered  the  communion  a  little  while 
before.  None  had  left  the  room,  for  Meyer  had  asked 
them  to  stay,  and  not  to  have  complied  with  his  slightest 
wish  would  have  seemed  ungracious  then. 

Doniphan  had  raised  his  bowed  head  to  find  one  of 
Meyer's  long  hands  resting  on  it  gently.  After  all,  they 
were  mostly  strangers  to  him.  He  knew  Doniphan  better 
than  any  one  there,  save  the  Doctor. 

His  first  question  on  regaining  consciousness  had  been 
for  his  one  faithful  disciple,  Joel,  and  Doniphan  had  been 
the  one  to  tell  him  of  his  death,  one  of  six  who  had  laid 
down  their  lives  for  the  law  that  day.  Doniphan's  voice 
as  he  told  it  was  a  little  tremulous.  The  majesty  of  com- 
ing death  was  in  the  air  of  the  room  about  him. 

"  And  the  girl,  Louise  Dupr6  ? " 

Thallon  and  the  Doctor  exchanged  a  quick  glance. 

"  I  have  heard  —  "  the  latter  began,  and  then  stopped, 
coughed,  and  tried  to  nod  in  his  old  friendly  way  as  he 
looked  across  at  Doniphan. 

"The  girl  is  safe  at  last,  dear  friend,"  Doniphan  put 
in  kindly,  and  Meyer  understood. 

*'  You  are  all  so  kind,"  he  said  presently.  "  I  am  so 
much  nearer  to  you  to-day  than  I  have  ever  been.  Thank 
you  all  so  much." 

The  Doctor  came  across  to  him.  His  voice  broke  a 
little  as  he  said  :  "  Oh,  Man,  Man,  I  was  harsh  to  you  once. 
You've  forgiven  that  ? " 

A  brilliant  smile  crossed  Meyer's  face,  though  his  eyes 
were  growing  dim. 


542  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

"I  had  forgotten,"  he  said  dreamily.  "We  have  had 
so  much  to  do  together  —  and  the  time  has  been  so  short." 

"  Lie  back  on  these  pillows,  so,"  the  Doctor  went  on, 
forcing  back  the  tears,  for  in  spite  of  his  crust  the  Doctor 
was  emotional.  "  Let  me  open  your  waistcoat.  This  way, 
Thallon.     O  my  God  !  " 

The  Rector  caught  the  half-smothered  exclamation  of 
fierce  grief.  These  men  about  him  were  very  bitter  that 
day.  He  put  his  hand  with  a  delicate  movement,  almost  a 
caress,  upon  the  toil-worn  hand  resting  upon  the  coverlet. 
Thallon,  with  his  arm  under  the  sinking  man,  was  struggling 
against  a  curious  sensation  of  envy.  He  was  envying  this 
man  his  death.  Doniphan  was  trying  to  force  his  mind  to 
take  in  its  reality.  It  seemed  so  monstrous,  Meyer  of  all 
men,  to  die  at  their  hands. 

"They  shall  pay  for  this,"  he  muttered. 

A  shadow,  the  first  sign  of  pain,  touched  Meyer's  face. 

"  They  know  so  little,"  he  said  tenderly,  "  and  suffer  so 
much.  Surely,  if  we  may  hope  to  be  forgiven,  they  may  also." 

Doniphan's  face  lit  up.  He  was  the  only  man  there 
who  comprehended  the  full  meaning  of  the  appeal.  Even 
dying,  this  man  would  not  compromise.  Was  this  defeat 
or  victory } 

Meyer  had  turned  toward  Thallon.  He  was  evidently 
conscious  of  the  shortness  of  his  time.  Already  his  breath- 
ing was  very  labored.  He  spoke  so  low  that  his  words 
reached  Thallon  alone. 

"You  no  longer  resent  my  having  stood  between  you 
and  her  that  night  ?  "  he  asked  softly. 

The  response  came  hard,  but  Thallon  answered,  "  No, 
I  did  you  wrong." 

"  And  you  have  seen  the  light  as  I  saw  it } "  His  voice 
was  eager  now. 

"  No,  I  cannot  see,  but  I  can  submit.  Rest  in  peace,  I 
will  be  faithful  to  your  trust  and  hers." 


EPILOGUE  543 

Meyer's  face  brightened  wonderfully. 

"  It  will  come  in  time,"  he  said  quietly,  "  to  you  as  to 
her.  I  should  like  to  have  seen  her  once  more,"  he  added 
wistfully ;  "  she  was  a  noble  woman  !" 

Thallon  went  softly  out  of  the  room  into  the  Doctor's 
office.  He  would  have  Uked  to  have  been  alone,  but  that 
was  denied  him.  It  was  a  day  of  intense  excitement  in 
Brockton.  The  Leverson  Works  were  burning  and  troops 
had  arrived.  The  Doctor's  study  was  full  of  more  or  less 
hysterical  women.  Mrs.  Lindley  was  vigorously  fanning 
Mrs.  Faucon,  whose  ample  figure  had  collapsed  into  a 
large  chair.  Hilda  was  leaning  over  the  back  of  it,  lectur- 
ing her  mother  on  the  sin  of  "  givmg  way."  Outside,  in 
full  view  of  the  windows,  Ned  had  taken  advantage  of  the 
general  confusion  to  turn  on  the  garden  hose,  and  was 
seated  in  a  puddle  of  water  on  the  front  lawn.  In  the 
street  beyond  Randal  Whitelaw  hurried  past  on  foot  He 
was  probably  making  mental  calculations  of  the  cost  of 
this  day's  work  to  Henderson  County. 

After  an  encouraging  word  to  Mrs.  Faucon,  for  which 
Hilda  looked  grateful,  Thallon  went  outside  and  rescued 
Ned.  The  child  submitted  gracefully,  for  he  had  grown 
fon|^  of  this  new  friend.  Thallon  had  become  so  gentle 
of  late,  especially  when  Ned  asked  him  about  his  beauti- 
ful lady,  who  had  gone  away.  Thallon  had  not  found 
happiness,  but  in  his  growing  love  for  the  child  he  had, 
perhaps,  found  peace. 

Inside,  by  the  bedside  of  the  dying  Preacher,  the  shad- 
ows had  begun  to  gather  already,  though  the  west  window 
was  suffused  with  a  golden  glory.  Meyer  had  raised  him- 
self by  a  great  effort  upon  his  elbow,  turning  to  Doniphan, 
the  old  eagerness  creeping  back  into  his  face. 

"  You  won't  give  up  the  fight,"  he  was  saying.  '*  You 
have  been  so  true  through  these  last  dark  days  in  doing 
His  will.     And  His  people  need  you  so !  " 


544  THE  BEATEN   PATH 

A  murmur  of  dissent  went  through  the  room.  They 
knew  he  referred  to  men  who  had  shed  innocent  blood 
that  day,  his  own  with  it,  but  Doniphan  seemed  to  under- 
stand him.  He  bent  over,  and  as  he  laid  him  gently  back 
upon  the  pillows  he  gave  the  man  his  answer. 

There  could  have  been  no  movement  in  the  beautiful 
lines  of  the  mouth,  but  by  some  play  of  the  fading  light  it 
seemed  to  smile  back  at  the  strong  rugged  face  above. 
The  two  faces  were  close  together.  Quite  unperceived  in 
the  darkening  room,  Doniphan  stooped  and  kissed  him. 

Many  faces  came  and  went,  but  Lindley  saw  nothing  but 
those  two,  one  looking  down  into  the  other.  Mrs.  Faucon 
had  come  in  and  had  quite  broken  down  and  had  been 
taken  away  by  Hilda.  Only  the  Doctor  knew  that  Meyer 
still  lived.  He  had  fallen  into  a  lethargy  from  which  he 
only  aroused  himself  a  very  few  moments  before  the  end. 
Even  then  the  tired  brain  shone  clear,  as  it  ever  had  at 
his  best,  and  his  thoughts  were  of  the  man  to  whom  he 
had  bequeathed  his  work.  The  look  he  fixed  on  Doni- 
phan had  a  great  beauty  in  it,  as  he  said  softly :  — 

"  The  Lord  keep  and  guide  you  always,  and  bring  you 
to  Everlasting  Life  through  His  work  and  ours." 

Cuthbert  Faucon  had  thrown  himself  on  his  knees  beside 
the  bed. 

"  Oh,  Mobray,"  his  voice  was  thick  with  emotion,  "  let 
us  work  together,  as  he  would  have  us  do." 

Meyer  did  not  hear  him.  The  light  of  his  eyes  was  fad- 
ing fast,  but  his  hand  had  groped  its  way  across  the  bed 
until  it  rested  upon  the  clasped  hands  of  the  two  men. 

He  must  have  felt  the  contact,  for  an  expression  of  great 
content  settled  upon  his  face  like  a  benediction  ;  his  lips 
parted  slightly,  and  in  a  faint  but  perfectly  audible  voice 
to  those  who  bent  over  him,  he  uttered  the  one  word :  — 

"  Coming !  " 

Then  the  light  went  out. 


II 


II 


A     000  128  001     5 


